Fire Emblem Resurrection: Whispers of a Distant Past
by Astral Miracle
Summary: Life is finally as it should be for thirteen-year-old Morgan. Sadly, Ylisse has grown soft from an era of peace and prosperity. When an old friend unintentionally sparks the rebirth of the Valmese empire, few are fit to answer the call. Desperate to prove herself, Morgan gathers her most trusted friends and joins the desperate race for a relic with power over death itself.
1. Author's Note

Well, that took forever.

If any of you out there have been waiting for me to continue my last story, I apologize for the long wait. Truthfully, I started this story just before I finished uploading the rest of the last one (almost a year ago?), but I severely underestimated how busy I'd be. I started a graduate school program last year, and between that and job hunting, I've been far busier than I expected. Thankfully, I previously left off on a high note rather than a cliffhanger.

Anyhow, this story's finally finished, and I sincerely hope the next doesn't take me this long. If you're still with me even after all this time, enjoy. :)

For anyone new to my writing, welcome. This story is set long after the events of Fire Emblem: Awakening (about 15 years later). It follows the other stories I have written with these characters, but adheres reasonably close to game canon. I've tried to write this story in a way that you do not need to read any of my prior works to understand it, but it does build directly off of what happened in Beneath a Starless Night. This story also touches upon the events of Fire Emblem: Fates. I've tried to remain faithful to the game canon there, too, but I've taken a few creative liberties as necessary. This story contains spoilers for Fire Emblem: Awakening and Fire Emblem: Fates.

This story primarily follows Morgan from the present timeline. She is the daughter of Robin and Cordelia, and younger sister to Severa. The Awakening children from the alternate timeline have mostly stuck around. At one point, the older Severa, Owain, and Inigo disappeared without a trace. Severa and Owain have recently returned with their newborn daughter, but Inigo did not return with them. This story features a few other pairings, but most of them are not hugely relevant.

I do not own Fire Emblem or any of the characters from Fire Emblem. This story is rated T for alcohol use and themes of death and war (nothing more extreme than what the games feature).

Please enjoy.


	2. Prologue: Past Light

**~ Prologue ~**

 **Past Light**

The season's first storm had descended upon Valm a few weeks earlier than expected. Already, the rolling plains and overgrown wilderness were blanketed beneath a thick layer of soft, fluffy snow. In the northern, isolated reaches of the continent, only the occasional pattering of a wandering rabbit or deer disturbed the soothing silence; few travelers found any reason to venture so far from the more populous Valmese cities.

Wedged between an expanse of nondescript woodlands and a frozen, winding river was a small collection of cozy wooden cottages. The tiny village was carefully situated upon a rare stretch of even land suitable for farming. In better times, such communities were self-sustaining and accustomed to all of the natural hardships of the region. Something as trivial as the early onset of winter could hardly be a bother, and these hamlets often served as havens for the occasional traveling merchant who wandered by.

But this year, this quaint collection of simple lodgings would have offered little comfort to any who happened across it. The village's residents were long gone, and anything of value had been stripped away, leaving the ruin barren. A large mound loomed ominously by the village's outskirts: a mass grave for the perpetrators of the grisly massacre.

Not far from where the bandits had been unceremoniously interned, neat rows of wooden crosses marked the final resting places of many of the village's former inhabitants. Some of the graves were etched with names, others with short and tearful farewells. Most of the lettering had been roughly scrawled, as if hewn by sharp pieces of stone or rusted farm implements. One particular inscription stood out from the others, however, for it had been crisply cut with a fine blade.

* * *

 _Forgive me._

 _I came too late. I failed you, as I have failed so many others of late._

 _Your son lives. I will look after him. I promise._

 _Rest peacefully._

* * *

The ruin was only one of many such villages that had come to such a grim fate. The political unrest in Valm and the accompanying resurgence of banditry had left behind countless victims. This particular ruin was only unique in the fact that two new inhabitants had moved into it… and not by their own choosing.

At the center of the village was a particularly large cottage. The stout home had once belonged to the town's winemaker. Deep beneath the home was a cellar, kept cold and dry all year long. While it had once been filled with kegs of ale, cider, and wine, most of the goods had disappeared along with the village's inhabitants. Sturdy iron bars had been installed in the cellar since, forming a pair of makeshift cells.

One of the cells held a man who was well over forty years of age. His face was gaunt and pale, and there was a defeated, weary look in his eyes. His grey hair had grown into a terrible, unkempt mess, and his chin was covered in stubble. Yet despite the man's broken appearance and advanced age, his arms and shoulders were tightly muscled. When he did occasionally move, he did so with practiced grace and fluidity. Though he had no weapon at the moment and wore only a simple traveler's tunic, he was clearly a hardened veteran of many battles.

In many ways, the second prisoner looked to be the first's polar opposite. She was quite young – in her late teens, perhaps, but certainly no more than twenty years of age. She looked as if she had spent the bulk of her idle days grooming her straight, shoulder-length pink hair. Though her weapon had also been taken from her, she was fully dressed for battle. She wore a thick, padded cloth tunic beneath a rigid brigandine of black leather. Her armor was adorned with a number of golden, four-pointed stars, contrasting with her white and gold patterned headband. Seemingly oblivious to her predicament, she leaned idly against the wall, smiling cheerfully as if nothing in the world could possibly faze her.

The cellar door creaked open, and both prisoners looked up to see their captor approaching. The mysterious, soft-spoken man appeared to be in his late twenties. He was not particularly large or imposing, though he wore a splendorous, black, silver-trimmed coat that spoke of wealth and station. His dark green hair was neatly trimmed and draped around his head, framing his unassuming face. His tanned skin was unblemished, save by a curious red mark upon his forehead.

"I must apologize for my tardiness," the green-haired man said. His voice was mellow and kind, befitting his appearance. "Dinner?" he offered. He approached each of the cells in turn, sliding a tray of food to each of his two prisoners – roasted rabbit, seasoned cabbage and onion soup, and sliced apples from the autumn's harvest.

"Finally! I'm starving," the female prisoner announced. She seized her tray excitedly and began wolfing down the offered meal.

In contrast, the male prisoner made no move towards the offered food. He stared at it suspiciously, for it was far finer fare than he had expected. "Fresh meat. Fresh vegetables. Salt and pepper. Fresh fruit. How did you find this food in a frozen wasteland like this? Just what do you think you're playing at?" he demanded angrily.

"Be at ease, Inigo. The food is not poisoned," the green-haired man said reassuringly. "I wouldn't need poison to kill you two, after all, if that were my intent."

Reminded of the fact that he was completely at his jailor's mercy, Inigo heaved a deep, resigned sigh. "Then why are you keeping us here?" he asked bitterly. "We've answered all of your questions, haven't we? We've told you just about everything we know. What more do you want for us?"

"I would like you to answer for the danger you've unwittingly brought upon this world," the green-haired man replied matter-of-factly.

"What danger?" Inigo growled in exasperation.

"Just ignore him, Dad," the pink-hair girl interrupted.

A shadow flickered across the green-haired man's face as he rounded upon his younger prisoner. "Does it truly not bother you?" he asked quietly. "Or are you truly as oblivious as you seem? Tell me, Soleil. What are you hiding behind your lighthearted smile? Does it please you to imagine this world swallowed by despair?"

The girl, Soleil, rolled her eyes. "Of course not," she said. "I just don't see why either of us should be listening to you. We don't even know your name."

The green-haired man stared at her appraisingly for a moment longer. Then, surprisingly, he smiled. "Fair enough," he conceded. "You may call me Dracos."

"Dracos?" Soleil echoed. "That's an odd name."

"No odder than Soleil," Dracos replied, before turning to face Inigo once more. "It is true that you've answered my questions, Inigo. The trouble is, by your own admission, you told the bandits who I rescued you from just as much."

In a fit of frustration, Inigo leapt to his feet and seized the bars of his cell, shaking them violently. "Of course I did!" he spat. "They were going to torture my daughter! What else could I have done!?"

"Quite touching, really, the lengths to which a loving father would go," Dracos said. Though his tone remained even, there was a mocking air to his words that Inigo did not like. But before Inigo could interrupt, Dracos gestured briefly with his slender fingers. The air within the cellar suddenly dropped several degrees, causing both Inigo and Soleil to shiver uncomfortably.

A layer of frost materialized upon the iron locks. The locks shattered with a loud crack, and the crude iron gates slid open.

"W-what?" Inigo gasped, stunned by the spontaneous display of magic.

Dracos pointed towards a nearby crate. "Your swords are in there, along with the rest of your belongings and everything else I took from the bandits. Take whatever you'd like," he offered. He then turned and began striding towards the cellar steps.

Soleil stole a glance at her father, but Inigo's expression said plainly that he had no answers for her. "Wait!" Soleil called after their departing captor. "You're letting us go? Just like that?"

"I have no reason to hold you any longer," Dracos explained without looking back. "If you wish to leave, then leave. However, as I mentioned before, your actions have brought about dire consequences of which you are unaware. I intend to repair the damage you two have inadvertently caused, and would like to enlist your help, if possible."

"Dire consequences? Damage?" Inigo repeated skeptically. "You're not making any sense!"

Dracos said nothing, and only started up the cellar stairs, seemingly indifferent to the fact that he had just armed and turned his back upon his former prisoners.

* * *

Reluctantly – for neither of them trusted their mysterious captor – Inigo and Soleil followed Dracos out of the derelict house. A short while later, they were gathered just outside the village in what looked to be a graveyard.

"Do you know what this village was called?" Dracos asked conversationally.

"I don't even know where we are. You blindfolded us before dragging us out this way," Inigo said testily. "How am I supposed to know the name of this village?"

"You aren't," Dracos replied wryly. "This village never had a name, as far as I know. It never needed one. There are thousands of tiny hamlets just like it all over Valm, too small and insignificant for people to speak of them. There are so many of them, in fact, that few people in Valm have learned of this one's fate."

"Bandits?" Soleil guessed, remembering the group that had attacked and captured her and her father almost immediately upon their arrival in Valm.

"Indeed," Dracos confirmed, nodding slightly.

"What became of the survivors?" Inigo asked. "Didn't they send for help?"

"How do you know there were survivors?" Soleil asked her father, puzzled.

"Someone had to dig these graves," Inigo reasoned grimly.

"Someone indeed," Dracos agreed. "But we will get to that in due time. Suffice to say, Valm has grown restless of late. This continent has become as it once was – a land of many smaller, sovereign countries. Those who linger in unclaimed, unvalued territory, like the villagers who once resided here, have been thrown to the metaphorical wolves. As such, the late Conqueror's unfulfilled promises seem all the more poignant now."

At that reference, Inigo's lips grew thin.

"What is he talking about, Dad?" Soleil asked, noticing her father's expression.

Inigo hesitated, trying to decide how best to explain the Valmese Empire to his daughter. "A long time ago, a man named Walhart decided to unite this continent beneath a single banner," he finally began, after a lengthy pause. "He conquered nearly every country and dukedom in Valm, and was only defeated after he set his sights further east towards the continent of Ylisse. Tens of thousands died during Emperor Walhart's rise to power. Countless others suffered under his reign."

"A fact that many have sadly forgotten, thanks in no small part to those who would romanticize the Conqueror's quest for unity," Dracos said.

Inigo frowned thoughtfully. It was a troubling thought, but he still didn't understand what Dracos was hinting at. "You're saying that there are people pushing for Valm to be reunited," he finally guessed. "Are there really enough of them to pose a genuine threat? And what does this have to do with Soleil and me?"

"Emperor Walhart's rise to power began with the small country of Valm, a country that was politically, militarily, and economically insignificant, whose only claim to renown was sharing the name of the continent," Dracos reminded. "Under the right leader, who knows what may happen?"

"Do they have such a leader?" Inigo asked, his frown deepening.

"Not yet," Dracos admitted. "But imagine if the Conqueror himself were to return. Imagine if Emperor Walhart were to begin rallying his legions once more."

"That's impossible. Walhart is dead," Inigo said flatly.

"Indeed, and generally speaking, the dead neither raise armies, nor wage war," Dracos agreed. "But humor me. Imagine if there were an artifact of legend capable of raising the dead, a powerful relic hailing from the mythical world of New Valla, and the thought-to-be nonexistent kingdoms of Hoshido and Nohr."

"Mythical? Nonexistent?" Soleil asked wonderingly. Beside her, Inigo stiffened, his expression hardening.

"Now imagine, if you please, a man and his daughter arriving most mysteriously to our world," Dracos went on, and though he spoke in the same, conversational tone, there was now an ominous shadow to his words. "Upon their arrival, they are captured by mercenaries in the service of those who wish to finish what the Conqueror began. And upon being captured, the man eventually admits to the most fantastical story of hailing from this world that was previously thought to be a work of fiction."

"Dad? What is he talking about?" Soleil asked her father, unsettled.

Inigo swallowed nervously. "Dracos, are there truly legends that speak of the Bifrost Staff?" he asked, unable to bring himself to answer his daughter.

"Yes, although few have acted on them before now," Dracos said. "Our stories speak of two similar staves, the Valkyrie Staff and the Aum Staff. Generations of treasure hunters have scoured the world in search of them without any luck. In contrast, most have considered the Bifrost Staff to be little more than a fanciful myth… until now."

"Oh! So they know now that New Valla is real!" Soleil blurted excitedly, catching on at last. The rest of Dracos's warning sank in almost immediately after. "Wait a moment… Dad, is this staff thing real, too?"

"Well, Inigo?" Dracos prompted. "It seems quite likely that someone will begin searching for the Bifrost Staff. When they do, what do you imagine they'll find?"

A defeated look came over Inigo. He didn't answer the question, for there really was no need. "What do you want from us, Dracos?" he asked.

Dracos smiled and turned away, looking out towards the row of grave markers. "You asked me earlier what became of this village's survivors," he said. "They were saved by a truly remarkable child, a thirteen-year-old girl who had been chased away from her own home nearly two years prior. Though she was alone, she confronted and slew the bandits. She helped the survivors bury their loved ones, then lead them away to safety."

"A thirteen-year-old girl?" Inigo asked doubtfully.

"Hard to believe, isn't it?" Dracos said. He then moved to stand beside the nearest grave marker, gesturing towards the longest and neatest of the inscriptions that had been left behind. "These were the only words she could bring herself to offer to the bandits' victims," he explained. "Read them, Inigo, and tell me: what do you think of this child?"

When her father did as Dracos asked, Soleil, not wanting to be left out, stepped forward, too, and began reading the inscription aloud. "Forgive me. I came too late. I failed you, as I have failed so many others of late. Your son lives. I will look after him. I promise." Her face wrinkled in confusion. "That's odd. Did she know the people of this village?"

"She did not," Dracos said. "She was merely passing through, wandering from one village to the next without a final destination in mind."

"She's troubled," Inigo said softly. "Only thirteen years old, without a family or home, left to face this sort of chaos and ruin alone. It's hard to see one's victories in such a light, and far easier to dwell upon one's failures."

"You understand, then," Dracos said approvingly.

"More keenly than you realize," Inigo replied.

"But this child is more than merely troubled," Dracos went on. "She's intelligent and talented, hardworking and selfless. It's hard to believe, but she may very well be more capable than anyone else of helping us through our plight. Still, I hesitate to lay such a heavy burden upon her delicate shoulders alone."

"So that's what you're after. You want us to help this girl," Inigo reasoned. He shook his head slowly. "From the sounds of it, she's already been through far worse than she deserves. It wouldn't be fair for us to involve her in this mess. Besides, as gifted as you think she is, I'm sure we can find others who are just as capable."

"Unlikely," Dracos disagreed. "And truthfully, she has already been involved for quite some time. However, the choice is hers, and hers alone. Morgan has recently discovered that her family cherished her more than she believed. She has thus returned to Ylisstol. If she proves unwilling to leave her home behind again, I will not pressure her otherwise."

It took but a second for the name to register, and when it did, Inigo's jaw dropped. "Morgan?" he gaped.

"Ah, so you've heard of her? The young daughter of Ylisse's hierarch?" A sly smile crossed Dracos's lips.

"B-but…" Inigo sputtered, his mind reeling.

"You know her?" Soleil asked her father, her bewilderment growing as she tried to make sense of her father's reaction. She turned to Dracos. "I thought you said this girl was only thirteen years old."

"She's not… she couldn't… this isn't…" Inigo stammered. He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. "Morgan was born years before I left Ferox. She can't possibly be younger than Soleil! And besides, Robin would never have sent his daughter away!"

"And indeed he did not. It was a simple misunderstanding between the two, one that has since been corrected," Dracos said. "Regarding her age, you mentioned two traveling companions during your story. Would it interest you to learn that they returned to Valm only a couple of months ago, bearing with them their infant daughter? Shortly before your arrival, as a matter of fact."

Inigo fell silent. He stared at Dracos, thunderstruck.

"I was skeptical of your story at first, I admit," Dracos admitted. "But your words seem genuine enough. It seems you and your daughter have lived through a decade and a half in the space of only a few days. Fascinating, isn't it?" His disarming smile widened at Inigo and Soleil's incredulous expressions. "You don't believe me?"

"Do you blame us?" Soleil asked tensely.

"I suppose not," Dracos surrendered with a laugh. "You will simply have to see the truth for yourselves, then. I would advise you to steer clear of your family in Roseanne for now. You should return to your old home in Ferox instead, Inigo; I can arrange transportation for you if necessary. There, you can see for yourself how the world has changed in your absence. If you decide to accompany Morgan in this endeavor, you can await her arrival there. Otherwise, you and your daughter may, at your leisure, return to Roseanne, or travel onwards to wherever you mean to go."

"Morgan is headed towards Ferox? I thought you said she had returned to her home in Ylisstol," Inigo said.

"She did," Dracos acknowledged. "But in a few weeks' time, Ferox will be hosting a national tournament of sorts. Exalt Chrom will be attending the event personally, and this year, he'll be accompanied by his hierarch and both of their families."

"A tournament?" Soleil asked.

"To determine the next ruling khan of Ferox," Inigo, who was quite familiar with Feroxi politics, explained.

"They decide who gets to rule the country through a tournament!?" Soleil exclaimed, her eyes shining eagerly.

"They are an odd sort, aren't they?" Dracos laughed. "So, to Ferox, then?"

Inigo looked towards the south, or in the direction he thought was south, at least. His plan had been to return to Roseanne and introduce his daughter to her grandparents, but he couldn't rightfully disagree with his former captor's assessment; his planned reunion had already promised to be awkward, given how many years it had been. How much worse would it be when his parents learned that he was now inexplicably older than they were?

Part of Inigo wanted to disbelieve Dracos's tale, to march home anyways in hope that the mysterious man was simply lying to him. But if the soft-spoken, green-haired stranger was telling the truth…

As he often did when he was uncertain of his course, Inigo looked to his daughter. When he saw Soleil's feigned nonchalance, masking a veritable fountain of excitement, he knew there was only one way forward. "Alright," he agreed tiredly. "To Ferox, then."

* * *

Over the past few years, Regna Ferox had become a far more forgiving place than its reputation suggested. Heightened trade with Ylisse and Plegia ensured that both food and suitable clothing remained plentiful throughout the winter months. It helped, too, that in the present era of relative peace, the Feroxi people spent far less of their time hardening themselves for battle, and far more of it bettering their homes and livelihoods.

Some things, however, like the bitter climate, remained the same as ever. Unprepared visitors from Ylisse and Plegia were often caught off guard by the frigid Feroxi winters.

"S-so… c-cold," a teenaged Ylissean girl complained, her teeth chattering with every word. Her twin platinum-blond ponytails flapped about gently in the wind, and she hugged herself tightly, shivering continuously, for her colorful sweater was more fashionable than warm.

Following a few paces behind the girl was her rather exasperated mother, a stunningly beautiful woman in her mid-thirties with neatly groomed red hair so long that it draped down just past her waist. "I told you to wear something warm, remember?" she chided her daughter gently. She paused briefly to adjust her own traveling cloak – a cumbersome woolen garment heavier than most quilts – then drew a second, identical cloak from her bag. "Hold still, Severa," she instructed firmly.

Severa stared at the oversized cloak distastefully, but the cold was simply too much for her to bear, and she reluctantly remained where she was, allowing her mother to wrap the cloak around her. "Thanks, Mom," she said grudgingly.

The girl's mother, Cordelia, only smiled faintly and shook her head, quite accustomed to her daughters' antics by now.

Once properly dressed, and therefore in a hurry to get off the streets, Severa began looking around, scanning the busy Feroxi streets. She then sidled up to her father. "Dad, where are Uncle Chrom and Lucy?" she said impatiently.

Robin, the hierarch of Ylisse and Severa's weary father, ran one hand through his short, messy hair, which bore the same platinum-blond hue as his daughter's. "They're waiting for us in the arena," Robin said wearily. "We'll see them soon."

Severa groaned in dismay. "The arena is still like a million miles away!" she whined.

Robin shook his head and gestured towards the arena, an impressive building which loomed over them from a nearby hilltop. "It's not even a mile from here," he said. "We'll be there in half an hour."

"Let's hurry, then," Severa prodded him. "I want to show Lucy my new necklace."

"Be patient, Severa," Cordelia said, resting one arm over her daughter's shoulder in a calming manner. "You wouldn't want to leave your little sister behind, would you?" As she spoke, Cordelia glanced over her shoulder to where her youngest daughter, Morgan, was perusing a Feroxi street vendor's wares.

Unlike her sister, Morgan was dressed quite appropriately for the cold. She wore multiple thick layers, wound tightly around her diminutive frame, making her look even smaller than she really was. A fluffy, sky blue scarf draped down her shoulders and halfway down her back. Her lustrous red hair – which her mother had painstakingly groomed only that morning – seemed to be dancing amidst the breeze.

Accompanying Morgan were her two newest friends, Helios and Crescent, a young couple with a distinctly foreign look about them. The two of them were about a decade Morgan's senior, but had struck up a close friendship with her nonetheless.

Crescent – a slender woman whose soft, waist-length, black hair was draped over her shoulders – was just as fascinated with the Feroxi vendor's wares as Morgan, her dark amber, almond shaped eyes sparkling with curiosity. Helios seemed rather more reserved, in contrast, though he did not seem to be in much of a hurry, either. Both of them were dressed in similar, long, black coats trimmed in white fur, with matching tunics underneath.

Suddenly, as if she had sensed her parents and sister watching her, Morgan turned and looked up. She smiled and waved, her mischievous dark eyes shining playfully.

"We're going to be late, Morgan," Robin called, in an effort to placate Severa. "Your sister's waiting for you up in the arena, too, remember?"

"But Dad, there's still so much to see!" Morgan protested.

"We can come back to shop later," Robin promised.

"Some of the vendors will have left by then," Morgan said, pouting slightly. "Why don't you go on ahead?"

Robin and Cordelia exchanged worried looks; after their youngest daughter's recent escapade, neither of them were entirely comfortable with letting Morgan out of their sights for long. Before either of them could object, however, Severa spoke up. "Okay! See you later, Morgan!" Severa sang, before skipping ahead happily towards the arena.

"Severa!" Robin scolded, but he was too late. Severa only continued skipping along, whistling happily as she went.

"Don't worry, Dad! We'll be fine!" Morgan reassured, patting the sword at her hip, which was little more than a subtle lump beneath her thick clothing. Her two friends were similarly armed; two simple swords of Ylissean make rested in their leather scabbards upon Helios's weapon belt, while Crescent had a bow strapped to her back – a curious weapon of burnished, light-color wood, crowned with a thin golden icon of a sun and crescent moon.

"Morgan, I don't think…" Robin began, but Morgan, who had already turned her attention back to the street vendor's goods, was no longer listening. Robin looked helplessly to his wife, only to find her mirroring his expression. The two of them continued staring for several seconds longer.

Then, finally, afraid to leave their other young daughter unsupervised for long, Cordelia gestured towards the arena. "Morgan can take care of herself," she reminded her husband gently.

Robin nodded reluctantly, and the two of them continued onwards towards the arena.

* * *

The crowds of spectators inside Arena Ferox swelled as the appointed hour drew near, but they did not deter Severa in the slightest. Despite her small stature, she pressed forward boldly, squeezing her way through the bustling crowd. By the time her parents caught up to her, she had been reunited with her best friend, under the watchful eyes of their older twins.

"You and Lucy have a lot to learn about looking good while traveling. When we get home, I'm taking you both shopping," the older Severa was saying, fighting hard not to laugh at her younger self's indignant expression. Unlike the younger Severa, her hair was the same color as her mother's; after several failed attempts to dispel the magic altering it, she had finally abandoned the thought.

"But I like this sweater!" the younger Severa whined.

"It's not warm enough," the older Severa insisted. "It looks good, but no one will ever see it if it's always covered up."

"Mine's nice, isn't it?" the younger Lucina chimed in. She spun in a graceful pirouette, her long, dark blue hair streaming behind her, and her garishly colored cloak swirled wildly in her wake.

"You need to stop taking fashion advice from your older sister," the older Severa replied, glancing slyly towards the adult Lucina.

"She doesn't need my advice. She's me, remember?" the older Lucina said, with a wide smile to show that she had not been offended. "It's pretty, though. Very colorful," she added.

"See?" the younger Lucina said proudly.

The older Severa sighed dramatically, raising her hands in an exaggerated gesture of defeat. She then noticed her parents approaching, and waved eagerly, though her smile faded when she noticed someone missing. "Where's Morgan?" she asked hurriedly, skipping over any sort of greeting.

"Back home in Azure Pyre. She told us she probably wouldn't be able to make it, remember?" Robin replied.

"The other Morgan," Severa corrected impatiently.

"She stopped to browse the marketplace with Helios and Crescent. She said they'd catch up to us later," Cordelia said. She glanced worriedly at the arena gates as she spoke, wondering if Morgan would be able to find them within the crowded arena.

"She'd better hurry, else she'll miss the fight altogether." Everyone turned to see Exalt Chrom approaching. The blue-haired Ylissean ruler was regally dressed, befitting his station as a visiting dignitary, but had a vaguely uncomfortable air about him, as if the rowdy arena was too noisy for his liking.

"Hello, Chrom," Robin greeted.

"Hey," Chrom said. "Thank the gods you're here. Khan Flavia has been laying out all the trade agreements to be renewed. She seems especially confident in her champions this year."

"Well, she _has_ been the ruling khan for six years running now, even before they changed up their rules," Robin said.

"Where's Sumia?" Cordelia interrupted, noticing that the royal family – except for Chrom and Lucina – were conspicuously absent.

"The khans set have prepared a viewing balcony for us. Sumia's up there now, along with everyone else," Chrom answered.

"Owain and Ophelia should be up there, too," the older Severa chimed in. "Little Lucy wanted to come and greet you as you arrived, though. Should we wait for Morgan?"

"Probably?" Robin said, sounding uncertain.

Just then, the crowd burst into applause, roaring with cheers and incoherent chants.

"That's probably the champions stepping into the arena," Chrom guessed. "If we wait any longer, we'll miss the fight ourselves." He seemed rather indifferent to the possibility, with good reason; given Ylisse's close ties to both of the khans, the event was almost purely ceremonial, mattering only for the sake of Feroxi tradition and the victor's pride.

"You'll never hear the end of it if you miss the fight entirely, especially if Khan Basilio finally manages an upset," Robin reminded wearily. "Let's go. I'll look for Morgan afterwards."

* * *

"Is the battle over already?" Chrom wondered, as he and the others approached the viewing balcony. Though their view of the arena wasn't perfect from where they stood, they could easily make out the five combatants standing at the east end, representing Khan Flavia – two Ylissean mercenaries armed with lances, a Plegian warrior carrying a heavy battle axe, and two hooded and cloaked figures. The two cloaked fighters looked smaller than their three companions. One was armed with a spell tome, while the other was equipped with a rather unusual sword: a regal, gilded blade with one flat edge, and one serrated and curved.

"I don't think so," Robin said, indicating the heavy stone door across from the five gladiators. "It looks like Khan Basilio's men haven't entered yet."

"Don't the new rules allow each khan to choose six champions?" Lucina asked.

"Yeah," Chrom nodded. "It's been that way for a few years now, ever since that time when neither of the khans were happy with their lone champions. I suppose Flavia couldn't find a sixth this time around."

"Oh, I had plenty of volunteers. I simply didn't want to humiliate the big, bald oaf too badly." A tall, fierce looking woman with tanned skin and thick, straw-colored hair descended from the viewing balcony, grinning triumphantly. "Good to see you all. I'd urge you to hurry, but it looks like my insignificant other's late. Again."

"As always," Chrom chuckled. "It's good to see you, too, Flavia," he greeted the Feroxi khan.

"Hello, Flavia," Robin greeted the Feroxi khan. "It's been a while, hasn't it? Will Basilio be joining us?"

"Hah! He's probably down there still, giving his men one last pep talk," Flavia said dismissively. "As if it would help him now… ah, here he comes now. He doesn't look happy, does he?" Though she tried to keep her expression impassive, she couldn't quite hide her glee at the sight of her rival's distress.

At Flavia's words, Chrom and Robin automatically turned around. Khan Basilio was indeed quickly making his way towards them, and despite being nearly fifty years old, there was a commanding presence about the old khan that parted the crowds surrounding him effortlessly. As Flavia had noted, there was an uncharacteristically desperate look upon Basilio's face.

"Here we go again," Chrom muttered, fully expecting what was to come. "Lucina, could you…"

"Of course," Lucina said. She took the younger Lucina and Severa by their hands, and started for the stairs. "Come along, you two," she said. She glanced at the older Severa. "You really ought to come with us, too, Sev, before old Basilio tries to recruit you."

"Let him try," Severa grinned, waving goodbye to her younger self. By the time Basilio caught up to them, only Chrom, Robin, Cordelia, Severa, and Flavia remained.

To everyone's surprise, Basilio ignored Chrom altogether, and looked pleadingly towards Robin instead. "Robin, please, you have to help me," he panted, without the slightest semblance of a proper greeting.

Flavia groaned, slapping one hand over her forehead. "Not this again. Where's your dignity, oaf?" she berated. "Our friends are here to watch our tournament, not to fight for us because one of us is short a man!"

"That's not…" Basilio stammered breathlessly. He began vigorously shaking his head.

"If you're short only one champion, that puts you on even footing with Flavia, doesn't it?" Chrom reasoned, gesturing towards the five combatants below.

"Not… short…" Basilio sputtered. He paused to take a deep breath, then another, but his panicked look remained.

The others continued staring at Basilio curiously, but silent alarms began going off in Severa's mind. "Hold on. Mom, Dad, where did you say you left Morgan?" she asked suddenly.

Robin and Cordelia both looked to their eldest daughter questioningly, but Basilio's reaction was far more telling – at the mention of Morgan, he began looking around uneasily as if searching for some escape, resembling a cornered animal.

"Basilio, what's going on?" Robin asked, noticing the old khan's curious reaction.

There was a loud explosion, and the very foundation of the sturdy Arena Ferox seem to shake. The stone gateway below slid open, eliciting a round of applause from the eager crowd. A hush fell over the arena a second later, however, when only three individuals stepped through the door: Morgan, Helios, and Crescent.


	3. Chapter 1: A Contest of Pride

**~ Chapter 1 ~**

 **A Contest of Pride**

"B-but… the door," Basilio protested feebly. He cowered away from Robin's furious glare, holding up an ornate brass key between his trembling fingers. "It was locked! I promise!"

"Yeah, well, she's good at picking locks, and even better at simply blowing them apart," Severa sighed, trying to mask her own worries. Morgan's sudden reappearance wasn't all that surprising; journeying beside her unpredictable sister had left Severa quite desensitized to the girl's troublemaking antics. Still, the Feroxi tournaments were widely renowned for their violence and brutality…

"What is going on here, Basilio!?" Robin hissed dangerously.

"You would send a child to fight for you!? You're a disgrace!" Flavia spat, staring daggers at the other khan.

"I wasn't trying to!" Basilio said defensively. "I didn't even know she had returned! Last I heard, you were all still looking…"

"We don't have time for this," Cordelia interrupted sharply. "We have to get her out of there. Khan Flavia, can we call off the fight?"

"I… yes, of course," Flavia said, hesitating for only the briefest moment. She began searching for one of her guards, but before she could do or say anything else, there was a flash of light from the arena below. The baffled Feroxi heralds stationed around the arena reacted slowly, but mere seconds after the first blows were exchanged, they began blowing their war horns, signaling for the battle to begin.

* * *

Morgan stepped forward, knowing that her small stature would surprise her opponents. "Hello," she greeted cheerily. She smiled innocently, trying her hardest to appear harmless as she began studying her opponents.

Flavia's champions seemed every bit as stunned as the crowd. They looked to one another questioningly, reluctant to draw their weapons. Finally, one of Flavia's champions – a slender, hooded man carrying a decorated spell tome – stepped forth. "Morgan? Is that you?" he asked. His voice was surprisingly soft, but composed.

"Have we met?" Morgan asked, taken aback.

"It really is you!" a second hooded figure, this one a swordsman – or rather, a swords _woman_ , judging by her voice – exclaimed.

"You're our opponent? This cannot be," the hooded mage said. He looked up at the silent crowd of spectators, as if hoping for someone to intervene.

"Do you know these people, Morgan?" Helios asked quietly.

"Not that I know of," Morgan said hesitantly, for she couldn't quite place the voices of either of Flavia's champions who had spoken aloud. "Shouldn't we have started already? What are the khans waiting for?"

"They're probably thinking there's been a mistake," Helios remarked wryly. "I told you this wasn't going to work."

"Hey, this was _your_ idea, mister!" Morgan protested. "You're the one who said you were bored!"

"I said the edge was leaving my hands," Helios corrected. "I wasn't complaining, nor did I suggest getting ourselves into this… whatever this is."

"Sorry. That was me," Crescent said, grinning impishly. "So, Morgan. What now?"

"Mistake or not, it's too late now," Morgan said, returning her grin. "Let's wake the crowd up a little."

Crescent unstrapped her bow from her back in one fluid motion, then pulled back her bowstring as she were readying an arrow. A thin beam of light appeared in her hand, seemingly out of thin air.

"N-now hold on a moment," the opposing mage stammered.

Crescent fired anyways, her magical arrow exploding into a shower of light at her opponents' feet. Flavia's champions cried out in surprise and fell back, reaching for their weapons as war horns rang out from all around the arena.

* * *

"The mage first," Morgan decided quickly. She had seen enough of Helios's swordplay to know that she wouldn't be needed against the other mercenaries. Ignoring them entirely, she eyed the mage's unusual tome carefully and considered her own repertoire. The hooded mage's tome contained fire magic, judging from the fancy red cloth cover, but the golden inscriptions seemed very, very old.

It didn't matter, Morgan thought to herself, shrugging slightly as she reached for her staves. She had come prepared to deal with an enemy spell caster. Only one question remained: which of her staves to use? One would keep the mage out of trouble, at least, but would require constant attention. Another would lead to a more decisive victory, but only if she could accurately predict her adversary's first target.

"Cress," Helios warned, recognizing Morgan's hesitation. Then, without another word, he drew his swords and charged headlong into the fray.

Morgan winced. The instruction was obvious, for the young tactician had explained her arsenal to both of her friends. Helios's perception in battle was remarkable, and normally, Morgan wouldn't have second-guessed the swordsman's intuition. Given the situation, however, she couldn't be certain whether it was Helios's intuition speaking, or his protectiveness towards Crescent.

The hooded mage raised his tome, and Morgan knew she was out of time. She raised one of her staves, a sturdy mahogany pole topped with a glittering fire opal. Mentally crossing her fingers, she conjured a subtle, nearly imperceptible barrier around Crescent.

At that exact moment, the hooded mage, still reluctant to attack Morgan and trusting in his allies to keep Helios at bay, leveled his tome at Crescent. The tome gleamed with arcane energy as a fireball soared up from the hooded mage's hands, gliding high into the air. It swelled as swirling wisps of flame rose from the ground, flowing into the budding inferno. The hooded mage looked up in horror, realizing at last that the spell was no longer under his control.

The fiery maelstrom hung suspended in the air for a brief moment longer. Then it plummeted back towards the ground, falling upon its own conjurer. It erupted in a brilliant flash of fire, the concussive blast whipping up the sandy arena into a brief sandstorm. A sweltering wave of heat rushed outwards, forcing Helios and all of Flavia's remaining champions back.

"Shiro!" the hooded swordsman cried out, terrified. Forgetting herself completely, she cast her sword aside and rushed to kneel by the fallen mage's side.

Morgan, too, found herself reeling in shock; the reflected spell had proven far more powerful than she had anticipated. Thinking quickly, the young tactician tossed her staff aside, reaching for one of healing instead. A wave of curative magic rippled across the arena, enveloping the fallen mage in a soothing, emerald glow.

* * *

Helios did not allow the explosion to distract him for long. He did his best to clear his mind of all thoughts, for he understood his role in the arena. He advanced boldly towards two of Flavia's champions, a pair of Ylissean mercenaries armed with ceremonial lances.

The two Ylissean lancers seemed thoroughly shaken by the countered fire spell, but they braced their weapons defensively as Helios approached. In the meantime, their companion – a burly Plegian lumberjack and local hero – moved to flank Helios, thinking he had found an opening. He closed in cautiously from Helios's apparent blind spot, trusting in the din and the soft sand to mask his approach.

Though Helios could sense his third opponent drawing closer, he did his best to act oblivious, waiting patiently until he heard the soft twang of Crescent's bowstring behind him. He twirled aside, a split second before Crescent's arrow caught the axe-bearing warrior's hip. The arrow erupted into another flash of light, toppling the startled warrior and sending him stumbling past Helios.

Helios promptly punched out with the hilts of both his swords, striking the Plegian fighter squarely in the gut and shoving him towards the Ylissean lancers. The two mercenaries yelped in surprise and reflexively moved to each side, now separated.

In a flash, Helios darted forward, wedging himself between his two remaining opponents.

The two Ylissean mercenaries backed away further in surprise; never before had either of them encountered an opponent who _wanted_ to be flanked. Still, they were both seasoned veterans, and neither was about to let such an obvious opportunity pass them by. Sensing a quick victory, they set their lances tightly against the notches in their shields, angling to strike.

The two mercenaries thought that, by some miracle, they had gained the advantage. They had their opponent outnumbered and flanked, and were protected by their longer reach. Their opponent had blundered, or so they thought.

Helios dispelled that notion a mere heartbeat later, snapping his swords outward. He blindly swept one behind his back, distracting the lancer behind him and buying himself a few precious seconds. He pressed forward simultaneously, slashing upwards with his second sword and knocking his other opponent's lance askew.

The nearly-disarmed lancer reacted immediately, sidestepping to face Helios's approach directly as he corrected his grip. Amidst the confusion, he had forgotten about his opponent's second weapon. Helios promptly advanced another step, shifting his momentum to bring his other sword around in a powerful, overhead chop. The lancer staggered back, reeling from the blow, then howled in pain as Helios's first sword spun past, leaving a deep gash in his wrist.

The daring move had left Helios dangerously exposed to his remaining opponent, but Crescent struck first. There was another blinding flash, and a dull thump as the second lancer slumped to the floor, clutching his side. Then, of Flavia's champions, only the hooded swordswoman was left standing – or kneeling, rather, for she remained hunched over the prone form of the fallen mage.

"Will he be alright?" Morgan asked, approaching the pair worriedly.

The swordswoman looked up sharply and tilted her head, allowing her hood to fall aside. Her shoulder-length, viridian hair was disheveled, but her eyes shone with relief. She appeared fairly young, to Morgan's surprise – about Helios and Crescent's age, possibly even a bit younger. "He should be fine. Had the wind knocked out of him, that's all. We didn't know our opponents would be carrying healing staves into the arena, let alone using them on us. Thank you."

"This isn't supposed to be a fight to the death," Morgan reminded. "Why don't we call this a draw, and let the healers tend to your friend?"

The green-haired swordsman glanced at her fallen companions, then at Helios and Crescent, who had both remained unharmed. "A draw?" she asked, managing an incredulous laugh.

"You're still in fighting shape. It wouldn't be fair for us to pressure you into surrendering," Morgan said with a shrug.

"It's alright," the swordswoman said, shaking her head and sheathing her sword. "You three beat us fair and square." She sheathed her unusual sword, then stood straight and bowed, surrendering formally and gracefully.

It was not a gesture often seen in Arena Ferox, for battles in the arena rarely ended with combatants representing both sides still standing. The heralds caught on quickly enough, and a chorus of war horns announced the end of the tournament.

The audience was far slower to react, and the smattering of cheering and applause that ensued only barely pierced the stunned silence.

* * *

Morgan laid back in her bed, closing her eyes and breathing out a long, melancholy sigh. The guestroom that the khans had prepared for their visitors was quite unusual by Feroxi standards – the thick, padded mattresses were reasonably comfortable, and the fluffy down quilts were far softer than those the Feroxi normally preferred.

A soft, clicking noise sounded from atop the dresser, where Morgan had left her coat in a messy heap. Even without looking up, Morgan could imagine her best friend's unhappy posture.

"Don't worry, Ellie," Morgan said. "I'm not thinking about running away again."

The little silver butterfly nestled in Morgan's robe lazily clicked her wings again, this time making a soft, whistling noise. Years ago, Yuelle had been an ordinary girl and Morgan's best friend. After her untimely death, Yuelle's spirit had been magically bound to the silver trinket, allowing her to remain by Morgan's side. Yuelle could no longer speak, and could only write slowly and clumsily. Thankfully, she and Morgan had been together long enough that each of them usually already knew what the other was thinking.

Morgan rolled her eyes. "Okay, fine. I did think about it," she admitted. "Mom and Dad barely said anything to me on the way here, after making sure we were okay. They barely even looked at me. It's just like it was before we left."

Yuelle quivered irritably, then flew over to Morgan, prodding the young tactician's arm sharply.

"Ow!" Morgan complained, sitting up and accidentally knocking Yuelle askew in the process.

Yuelle picked herself back up quickly, then floated about in a rather agitated manner.

"Yeah, I knew they would be a little upset," Morgan said grudgingly. "I guess I could have warned them, but then they would've said no, and where would that have left us? We would've missed tonight's banquet, and Hel would still be bored – actually, I think Hel's still bored. Khan Flavia's champions didn't really put up much of a fight."

Someone rapped sharply on the door. Morgan looked up, feeling equal parts hope and trepidation; she was supposed to be sharing the guestroom with her parents, though neither of them had come by yet. "Come on in! The door isn't locked," she called, scrambling to remove her belongings from her parents' bed.

The door swung open. To Morgan's surprise, it wasn't her parents, but her oldest sister. "Hello, Morgan," Severa greeted tiredly.

"Hey, Sis," Morgan greeted bracingly. "Why the long face?"

"Why do you think?" Severa said, glowering at her impertinent younger sister.

Morgan smiled sheepishly, her cheeks tinged red. "Sorry," she apologized.

With a loud groan, Severa plopped herself down on her parents' bed, facing Morgan squarely. "We've only been home for a little over a month. Are you really bored already?" she asked.

"Of course not," Morgan said, shaking her head quickly.

"Then why trick Basilio into appointing you three as his champions?" Severa demanded.

"Well, I didn't _really_ trick him," Morgan began. "I just sent him a letter telling him that a friend of mine was interested in fighting in his tournament."

Severa glared at Morgan, unimpressed. "You knew he would believe the letter to be from the other Morgan," she accused. "Basilio didn't even know you were back in Ylisse until today."

"I didn't want him to turn us down," Morgan shrugged.

"But why? Why did you want to participate in the tournament so badly?" Severa asked. "Was this Helios's idea? Or yours?"

"It was Cress's idea, actually," Morgan replied. "Sort of, anyways. Hel's been growing restless lately. He said he was fine, but Cress told me she was worried about him. She asked if there was any way she and Hel could go along with Lucina and her Shepherds on one of their outings, but then, Mom and Dad asked us if we wanted to come see the tournament. That's when I thought of sending Khan Basilio that letter instead."

Severa closed her eyes. "And why did you think that would be a better idea?" she asked slowly, as if she were afraid of the answer.

"The Shepherds never see any fighting anymore, either," Morgan pointed out. "And besides, this way, we can all go to the Champions' Banquet tonight!"

Severa stared at Morgan incredulously.

"What? I've always wanted to go!" Morgan said defensively.

Severa remained silent for nearly a minute, staring all the while, as if she couldn't quite believe what she was hearing. "The Champions' Banquet?" she echoed slowly.

"Yeah! I read about it in a book on Feroxi history," Morgan explained, her eyes shining eagerly. "After every tournament, the Feroxi khans host a great feast for the champions and their families. They serve all sorts of exotic foods and drinks, too!"

Severa's face fell into her hands. "Please, please, please tell me this is a joke," she pleaded in a muffled voice.

Morgan looked bewildered. "What do you mean?"

"We were already invited to the banquet, Morgan," Severa moaned. "The khans always invite visiting dignitaries. Dad's been invited every year, starting from before you were even born!"

"Really?" Morgan asked. "Then how come we've never been to the banquet before?"

Severa finally looked up, her face now caught somewhere between exasperation and amusement. "We have," she said. "It's not nearly as exciting as you think. You were only two, the last time we went. You kept trying to grab at this giant slab of roasted bear, until finally, Basilio sliced off a humongous steak for you. Dad spent half an hour cutting it up into bitesize pieces. You ate all of it, somehow, then went straight to sleep."

"I don't remember this at all," Morgan said thoughtfully.

"Of course not," Severa sighed.

"So, why haven't we been to one since?" Morgan asked.

"Little Severa used to love playing with toy weapons, remember?" Severa said. "Mom and Dad were afraid that she'd insist on watching the tournament, and that it would be too scary for you two," she said. "Now, they're the ones scared half to death. Them and Basilio."

Morgan looked to her sister, startled. "Basilio?"

"When Dad saw you down in the arena, he looked ready to reduce Basilio to a heap of ash," Severa said dully.

"Oh," Morgan said in a small voice.

"Forget Basilio. Mom and Dad are both terrified, Morgan," Severa went on. "They think you've already grown bored of Ylisse, and that you're planning on leaving again."

"I guess I should go apologize to them," Morgan mumbled, pointedly avoiding her sister's gaze.

"You should," Severa agreed.

Morgan nodded slightly, then pulled herself to the edge of her bed and hopped to her feet. Stepping lightly over her belongings, she moved beside the dresser to retrieve her coat. "Umm… thanks, Sis."

"No problem. But, uh, before we leave…" Severa began, though her voice quickly trailed off with a nervous quiver.

Morgan turned to her sister, tilting her head curiously.

Severa paused to take a deep breath. "Look, Morgan. I know what it's like to have troubles that you aren't comfortable talking about," she began gently. "I know that sometimes, there are things you don't want to – or can't – share with Mom and Dad. Whenever you feel that way, remember me, okay?"

"Remember you?" Morgan asked, frowning. "How could I possibly forget you, Sis?"

"That's not what I mean," Severa said, shaking her head violently. "I know I wasn't much of a big sister to you when you were growing up, but we're still family. If you ever need help with anything, or if you just need somebody to talk to, I'll be there for you. You don't need to be afraid – I'll always listen, and no matter what it is that you want to talk about, I won't get angry."

Morgan stared skeptically at Severa.

Severa blushed, for she knew her own temper quite well. "I promise," she pressed on anyways. "You can tell me about anything – a new tome that keeps malfunctioning and setting things on fire, a pet you've been hiding in your new workshop, plans for a vacation in Plegia, a boy – or even a girl – that you've taken liking to. Anything you aren't comfortable telling Mom and Dad, you can tell me. If it's something dangerous, I'll try to talk you out of it, but I won't get angry, and I'll never make fun of you for it."

A sly smile slowly crossed Morgan's lips. "You might regret this," she warned jokingly.

"I might," Severa sighed. "But not as much as I'd regret something happening to you again – something that could've been avoided if only someone had been there for you." She stared evenly into Morgan's playful expression. "Alright, Morgan?"

"Alright," Morgan agreed tentatively. She pulled on her coat, then tugged back the hood a bit farther, allowing Yuelle to climb into it.

Severa peeked out the window towards the setting sun. "Come on. Mom and Dad are meeting us at the banquet. It should be starting soon."

* * *

By the time Morgan and Severa arrived at the Feroxi banquet hall, night had already fallen in full. Their parents were indeed waiting for them, along with the younger Severa. Robin and Cordelia seemed quite anxious at first, but a heartfelt apology from Morgan quickly put them at ease. After a few warm hugs, the younger Severa stormed away, embarrassed; the rest of her family followed soon after, joining the rambunctious gathering.

In an uncharacteristic show of elegance and taste, the khans had laid out an enticing buffet upon white silk tablecloths, stretching across six long and sturdy wooden tables. Tantalizing aromas wafted from assorted roasted game, accentuated by the sweet scent of various berry pies. Embellished wooden bowls laden with hearty, vividly colored stews were spaced evenly along each table. There was no sign of the crude, wooden eating utensils typically seen in Feroxi dining halls. Instead, genuine silverware was piled neatly between the platters of food with stacks of cloth napkins.

Not long after wandering away from her family, Morgan approached the table nearest to her, and almost immediately ran into the new ruling khan of Ferox. "Congratulations, Khan Basilio," Morgan greeted politely.

Basilio had not noticed Morgan's approach, and leapt a full foot in the air when he heard her voice right behind him. "Ah! Morgan!" Basilio exclaimed, and though he seemed delighted to see his champion, the formidable khan seemed strangely nervous, too. "That was some damn good fighting. You did your parents proud, girl."

"Thanks, but I didn't really get to do a whole lot. Hel and Cress had the fight pretty much won without me," Morgan said.

"D-did they, now?" Basilio asked. "I… I mean, yes, of course. You know, your friend – Hel, was it? – reminds me a bit of one of my old champions. You probably don't remember him – you were still just a wee lass when he left – but old Lon'qu was just about the best damn swordsman Ferox had ever seen."

Morgan couldn't help but smile at that, for she had crossed blades with the Feroxi swordsman only a few weeks prior. Perhaps Lon'qu had been stronger in his prime, but while Morgan had bested Basilio's former champion with relative ease, she wouldn't have dared to challenge Helios in the same fashion.

"Say, where is your buddy, anyways?" Basilio mused. "Think he'd be interested in sticking around?"

Basilio's sudden interest in Helios explained the khan's unusually reserved demeanor; Morgan understood that someone – likely Chrom, Flavia, Morgan's parents, or all of the above – had thoroughly chastised Basilio for involving a thirteen-year-old in the khans' tournament.

"You could ask him, but I don't think he'd go for it," Morgan shrugged. "He's recently married. This tournament was just a one-time thing for him, I think."

"Marrying and settling down… kids these days are going soft," Basilio grumbled discontentedly. "What about the other one? The pretty gal with the bow?"

"You mean Cress?" Morgan laughed. Instead of answering aloud, she scanned the rest of the banquet hall and quickly spotted Helios and Crescent, who were sitting together across the room. Even to the casual observer, the young couple's comfortably affectionate posture was unmistakable.

"Bah!" Basilio groaned.

"Sorry," Morgan giggled. "Oh, and… umm… I don't think Mom and Dad want me fighting in the arena anymore, either."

This time, Basilio took the news in stride, which confirmed Morgan's earlier suspicions. "Ah, don't you worry about it," he said, waving his hand dismissively. "You _are_ a bit young to be getting mixed up in politics. You just enjoy yourself tonight, you hear?"

"Sure. Thanks," Morgan said agreeably.

* * *

After a moment's consideration, Morgan decided to leave Helios and Crescent be. She wandered the banquet hall alone for some time, carrying a plate of food with her and nibbling halfheartedly at her meal as she went. The banquet may have seemed exquisite to the other guests, but to Morgan, who had glimpsed the finest lifestyles across both Ylisse and Valm, it all seemed disappointingly mundane.

Most of the other guests did not seem to know what to say to Morgan, so she was rather surprised when a slender, violet-haired man accosted her, seemingly out of nowhere. He appeared no older than Helios or Crescent. He was smiling pleasantly, and looked quite ordinary among the other guests in his plain, brown traveler's tunic. "Hello, Morgan," he greeted.

"Hi," Morgan said, examining the man closely. For some inexplicable reason, she felt as if she knew the violet-haired man. "Have we met?" Morgan asked curiously.

"Only in the passing," the violet-haired man smiled. "I must thank you for your help earlier."

Morgan tensed up. "You're one of Khan Flavia's champions," she realized, finally recognizing the hooded mage from before.

"Indeed I am," the violet-haired man said serenely, dipping into a slight bow. "Though we first met many years ago. You probably don't remember. You were only a little girl at the time."

"Really? You don't look _that_ much older than me," Morgan said, wearing a thoughtful frown.

"I'm afraid it's quite a long story," the violet-haired man laughed. "My name is Yashiro, by the way."

Morgan considered the name for a moment, then shrugged, unable to place it. "It's nice to meet you, Yashiro," she said. "And, uh… sorry about what happened back there, in the arena."

"The explosion was my own doing," Yashiro chuckled, shaking his head. "That was an impressive work of magic, deflecting my spell the way you did. I've never encountered anything quite like that before. When I felt my magic spiraling out of my control, I'm afraid I may have panicked a bit."

"It surprised me, too, with how well it worked," Morgan admitted. "It was my first time using that staff. I really should've tested it out before trying to use it for real."

Yashiro seemed slightly shaken by that thought, but he shrugged his concerns away. "It's no big matter. All's well that ends well, as the old saying goes," Yashiro said. "Anyways, I'm glad we've had this chance to speak. I'd say I owe you a favor, at least; you saved my life, after all."

"Oh, you don't have to worry about that," Morgan said quickly. "I did what anyone would have done."

"Hardly anyone. Have you never seen a tournament in Arena Ferox before?" Yashiro asked, winking. "Regardless, if you ever find yourself in a pinch, please don't hesitate to let me know."

"Okay. Thanks," Morgan agreed, though she wasn't entirely sure why she would need to reach out to this stranger, or how she would even go about doing so.

Yashiro smiled, easily reading Morgan's doubts from her expression. "Princess Lucina will know how to find me. I often meet with her and her Shepherds on the road," he said.

"You know Lucina?" Morgan asked wonderingly. She glanced across the room, to where the older Lucina and Severa had retreated to their own quiet corner; the older Lucina had been meticulous in keeping a low profile over the years, hoping to avoid awkward questions about her origin and heritage.

"We're old acquaintances," Yashiro acknowledged. "Now, I'm afraid I must be going. Good night, Morgan."

"Good night," Morgan replied automatically, watching in bewilderment as Yashiro departed, trying desperately to remember where she had met the curious, violet-haired man before.

Morgan was still combing through her memories when a chipper voice jarred her from her contemplations.

"Hi there!"

Morgan spun to find an unfamiliar, pink-haired girl standing nearby. "Hi," Morgan said politely.

The pink-haired girl blushed, and her eyes flickered nervously. "Wow… umm… hi," she stammered. "Err… did I already say that? I think I did."

"Are you alright?" Morgan asked, puzzled.

"O-oh... yeah, I'm alright. I'm great. I mean, not great, but…"

"You aren't supposed to be here, are you?" Morgan asked, misconstruing the girl's reaction.

"Huh? No, that's not… I mean… well, no, I'm not," the girl admitted.

"I knew it!" Morgan said triumphantly. "Don't worry, I won't tell anyone," she added hastily.

"Thanks," the pink-haired girl said, relieved. "I'm Soleil, by the way."

"I'm Morgan," Morgan replied, holding out her hand.

"That was you in the arena earlier, wasn't it? You were the one who tossed that giant fireball, right? You were amazing!" Soleil said, speaking incredibly fast as she vigorously shook Morgan's hand.

This time, Morgan was the one too flustered to speak properly. "Yeah… wait, no. I mean, probably?" she stammered.

"Well, _I_ think you were pretty amazing," Soleil said, beaming happily. "Anyways, I really can't stay. My dad's waiting for me outside – he's the one who helped me sneak in so I could take a look around. It was great meeting you, Morgan."

"Oh. Sure. It was… wait, you snuck in here just to take a look around?" Morgan asked.

"Yep!" Soleil said, missing the incredulity in Morgan's voice. "By the way, on your way here, did you see that cute little tea shop down the street? The one with the shuttered windows and red brick roof?"

"I think so," Morgan said, now more confused than ever. "Why?"

"If you aren't busy tomorrow, we should go get tea together!" Soleil suggested eagerly.

"Tea?" Morgan said blankly.

"Noon tomorrow, okay? See you then!" Soleil raced off without waiting for an answer, waving cheerily as she went.

"What a strange girl," Morgan murmured, watching as Soleil departed. "What do you think, Ellie?"

Morgan's hood rustled softly, and Yuelle emerged, rubbing her wings together to make a soft, chirping noise.

"A tea shop, huh?" Maybe they'll have cakes, too," Morgan said absently.

If Yuelle could have rolled her eyes, she would have, for there were countless desserts – including several colorful cakes – strewn across the buffet tables around them. Instead, Yuelle drifted down to land upon Morgan's unfinished plate of food, which had been lying forgotten on a nearby bench.

"Oh, right. Dinner," Morgan remembered. She scooped up her plate, and at Yuelle's insistence, finally settled down to finish her meal.

* * *

The rest of the evening proved fairly uneventful. The two khans and the other Feroxi dignitaries seemed determined to spend the rest of the night drinking, but the other guests began filtering out as the night grew late. After saying goodbye to her sisters, Morgan returned to her own room alongside her parents.

To Morgan's surprise, there was a crumpled note lying upon her bed when she entered. It was a short letter, without a signature or any other indication of who had left it.

* * *

 _Dear Morgan,_

 _It has been far too long since we last spoke. I am glad to hear that you've made your way home safely._

 _One of our mutual friends – someone that you have not seen or spoken to in a very long time – would like to meet with you. Unfortunately, trouble follows in his wake._

 _If you would like to meet this friend and join our efforts as we've done before, I will await your arrival tonight atop the hill directly behind your room, beneath the tall, leafless tree. Please come alone._

 _By now, I am sure you have realized that I am not who you thought I was. I look forward to finally meeting you face to face and putting your inevitable questions to rest._

* * *

To Yuelle's great annoyance – for she hadn't quite finished reading the letter – Morgan hastily stuffed the letter into one of her coat pockets. "Stop it, Ellie! I'll let you read it later," Morgan hissed when she felt Yuelle tugging at her coat pockets.

Annoyed, Yuelle flew over to the dresser and settled down, doing her best impression of a pout.

Morgan breathed out a sigh of relief as her parents entered the room behind her, oblivious to the commotion. She turned to her parents, a sleepy expression on her face. "Good night, Mom. Good night, Dad."

"Good night, Morgan," Robin and Cordelia replied.

Before long, all three of them were settled in their beds. Morgan closed her eyes, listening closely, until she was certain that her parents had fallen asleep. Then, after waiting a few more minutes for good measure, she quietly slipped out of bed. She tiptoed over to the dresser to collect Yuelle, then to the window. Quietly opening the heavy glass window proved to be a bit of a challenge, but not too much so. Less than a minute later, the pair slipped silently through the opening and out into the night.


	4. Chapter 2: Spreading Shadow

**~ Chapter 2 ~**

 **Spreading Shadow**

The sky was still dark when Helios awoke the following morning. He slipped quietly out of bed and pulled on his trousers, then seated himself in a plush armchair. His mind began to wander as he surveyed the room. He hadn't given the guest room much thought the night before, for he and Crescent had fallen asleep almost immediately upon returning from the banquet hall.

Helios smiled unconsciously as he thought back to the inns of his homeland. Morgan had warned him that Ferox wasn't quite as hospitable as Ylisse, but the Feroxi khans had clearly gone to great lengths to ensure that their guests felt welcome. Helios had spent many nights in the cheaper inns of Sol Hearth, where the rooms were cramped, drafty, and poorly furnished. In comparison, the guest room he and Crescent were staying in now was luxuriously cozy – the bed was pleasantly plush, and a gentle flame flickered in the fireplace, staving off the winter's chill.

And the two snug armchairs beside the broad window afforded the room a perfect view of the rising sun, Helios realized a moment later, when he gently tugged the curtain aside. He leaned back in his chair and sighed contentedly. After spending more than two decades living beneath a perpetual, starless night, he felt as if he could never tire of the sun's gentle caress.

That thought inevitably led him to think about Morgan, and about how quickly and dramatically his new friend had changed his life. The smile faded from Helios's face, and he sat in thoughtful silence for some time, pondering his latest predicament.

A few minutes later, Crescent stirred. Helios looked up when he heard the rustling blankets, jarred from his contemplations. He watched, entranced, as the beautiful dark-haired woman sat up slowly, stretching her arms and yawning.

"You seem comfortable enough," Crescent remarked sleepily, drawing a blanket up around herself. "Aren't you cold?"

"Not really," Helios said. "Sleep well?"

"It's too cold," Crescent murmured, curling up more tightly beneath her blanket.

Helios shook his head, smiling wistfully. Back when they were living in Monolith, Crescent had always seemed so strong, hiding her vulnerabilities as best she could. That was the way of life in Monolith, after all. Ylisse was different, though. Here, they could truly relax, and Helios couldn't help but find his dear friend's carefree, childish manner to be particularly endearing.

"What is it?" Crescent asked. Suddenly, Helios became aware of how long he had been staring.

"Nothing, really. I was just thinking, Morgan's been rubbing off on you," Helios replied. His smile widened when Crescent petulantly stuck her tongue out at him.

Helios glanced out the window again, watching as the sun gradually climbed higher into the sky. Again, he found himself thinking of Morgan, and of how much had changed since the day they first met. Somehow, that day seemed so long ago now, despite being less than two months prior.

Crescent yawned, then climbed out of bed with her blanket still wrapped around her, sitting down across from Helios in the other armchair. "You seem so serious," Crescent noted, sounding concerned. "What's wrong, Hel?"

Helios paused, trying to put his thoughts into words. "Back when we were in Monolith, a peaceful life seemed like an impossible dream," he said slowly. "Now we're living it, but sometimes, it still feels like one."

"A dream?"

"Yes. A fleeting one," Helios added somberly. "It's quite a lot to take in, going weeks without needing my swords, and being able to sleep soundly, knowing that we'll be safe throughout the night…"

"Still not used to it, then?" Crescent asked teasingly. This was the very reason she and Morgan had concocted their plan to join the Feroxi tournament, after all.

"I'm afraid to get used to it," Helios admitted.

Crescent stared at Helios curiously, a hint of concern in her expression.

"Around here, life just seems so much… softer," Helios said, pausing briefly in search of the right word. "Everyone we've met seems to think this peace will last forever, though it sounds like they've only just put their struggles behind them. We've met the soldiers of Ylisse; they hardly seem to train at all, and there's never any work for them. The books we've read speak of how the Feroxi value strength in battle, but the people here seem lax, too. Fighting is just a game to them. There's nothing at stake here other than hurt feelings, and maybe a few broken bones."

"You don't think this peace will last," Crescent reasoned, though she didn't quite agree.

"It may," Helios shrugged. "But that's not what I'm worried about. The people here know their world better than we do. It's tempting to listen to them, and lay down my swords for good, but…" His voice trailed off as he tried his best to put his fears into words.

"But…?" Crescent prompted.

"But I'm worried about Morgan," Helios admitted. "She ran away from all of this when she was only eleven, and managed to find herself plenty of trouble. All for the right reasons, too. The world is so much larger than we thought. Morgan seems content right now, but I'm sure there's still plenty of trouble out there, waiting to be found."

"True," Crescent agreed, and she, too, began considering that unsettling notion. Then, in hopes of lightening the mood, she smiled playfully. "You're really worried about her, aren't you? Should I be jealous?"

Helios only laughed, knowing that his wife was only joking. Over the past few weeks, they had both come to think of the spirited girl as a younger sister. A troublesome one, perhaps, but one they cared deeply for nonetheless.

"You're probably right to worry," Crescent conceded. "I suppose we should keep up with our training, just in case she decides it's time for another adventure."

"I suppose," Helios agreed reluctantly, though he didn't seem particularly fond of that idea, either.

"It's settled then," Crescent said lightly. She yawned again, and her blanket slipped aside, causing her to shiver as the cool, crisp morning breeze gently played across her skin. "It's too cold. I'm going back to sleep," she decided, returning to the bed and curling up beneath her sheets once more.

Helios rose from his armchair, stretching his arms briefly as he stole another glance at the rising sun. Then, shelving his doubts for the time being, he climbed back into bed as well.

* * *

"That's enough, Ophelia. You can quit tugging at my arm now," Severa said grouchily, trudging reluctantly towards the dining hall with her one-year-old daughter laying restlessly in her arms.

Ophelia did stop, but only for a few seconds. She then resumed fidgeting, grabbing clumsily at her mother's sleeve once more.

Owain, who was following a few steps behind his wife and daughter, couldn't contain his laughter any longer. That, of course, prompted Severa to spin about and scowl at him irritably. "Here, you can hold her," she said uncompromisingly, pressing the little girl into her father's waiting arms.

Severa then looked away deliberately, knowing that it would only annoy her further if Ophelia suddenly started behaving. She peered wistfully through the nearest window at the skies above, to where the sun was only just nearing its zenith; she had been hoping to sleep through the better part of the afternoon, but Ophelia had objected to that plan rather fiercely.

"Severa? Are you coming?"

With a jolt, Severa realized she had been standing still for nearly a full minute. Owain had already reached the end of the hall, and was dexterously holding the door open while somehow also keeping a struggling Ophelia out of trouble.

"Yeah. Sorry," Severa apologized, hurrying to catch up.

It was late enough in the morning that the dining hall was already fairly empty. A few of the khans' other guests who Severa didn't recognize were scattered sporadically around the room, while Morgan, Helios, and Crescent were sitting together in the corner room, playing a game of cards. Upon spotting her sister, Morgan stood up on the wooden bench and began waving animatedly.

"Good morning, Sis," Morgan greeted cheerfully as Severa and Owain approached.

"Good morning," Severa returned the greeting unenthusiastically. She began moving for the bench, but changed her mind halfway, looking towards the counter laden with food in the opposite corner of the room.

"I'll go fetch us some breakfast," Owain offered kindly. Without waiting for Severa's response, he veered off towards the serving counter instead.

Severa watched as Owain made his way across the room, wondering all the while how he was planning to serve and carry two platters of food while carrying Ophelia. Then she shrugged, deciding that it would be his problem, not hers – at least until Owain began complaining again.

But before Severa could sit down, Morgan spoke up. "Wait, Sis. Could I have a word with you really quick? There's something I want to show you," she said.

Severa gave Morgan a searching look; out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Helios and Crescent wearing the same, startled expressions.

"Is this about…" Helios started to ask.

"Sort of," Morgan cut him off hurriedly. "Please, Sis? It'll only take a minute."

With a sigh, Severa reached over to the fruit platter resting on the table, scooping up an apple before turning to leave. "Alright," she agreed, before following Morgan back towards the narrow, quiet hallway.

* * *

"What is it, Morgan?" Severa asked, as soon as she and her sister were alone.

"You remember what you said yesterday, right? About not getting angry with me?" Morgan began cautiously.

Severa closed her eyes tightly. "You're really going to try and test me today, aren't you?" she asked in a resigned tone. "Out with it, Morgan. What did you do?"

Morgan breathed in sharply, bracing herself. "I may have borrowed one of your books without asking," she admitted timidly.

"One of _my_ books?" Severa echoed, confused. "What books?"

"This one," Morgan said, reaching into her coat and pulling forth a small, plain book with a worn leather cover.

"M-my diary!?" Severa stammered. "How did you… Morgan!" Horrified, she snatched the book straight from her sister's hands. "You didn't read it, did you?" she asked desperately, though she already knew the answer.

Morgan looked away guiltily. "Owain mentioning Nohr made me curious. I wanted to know where you two had been," she admitted.

Severa's fearsome glower did not bode well for her husband. "Owain mentioned Nohr to you?"

"Sure. You were there, too, remember?" Morgan reminded. "It was back when we were in Monolith, traveling beside Hel, Trance, and Ferus. Owain was trying to come up with a name for my freezing spell."

"He came up with a million different names, most of which were entirely meaningless," Severa pointed out. "How did you know Nohr wasn't a name he made up on the spot?"

"Actually, most of the names he mentioned came from old myths and legends," Morgan corrected. "New Valla is pretty obscure, though. There aren't many stories about it, which is why I found it strange that Owain knew of them."

"What did you say?" Severa gasped, eyes widening in fear.

"What? New Valla?" Morgan said. "It's the mythical continent Nohr is on. Well, not so mythical, I guess. Anyways, that's what I wanted to talk to you about. I'm sure I'm not the only one who's read about New Valla. That's why we have a problem."

"New Valla…" Severa muttered, sinking deep into thought.

Morgan waited patiently for some time, but when Severa still did not answer, she glanced out the same window Severa had been staring reminiscently through only a few minutes earlier. "Sis, I'm supposed to be meeting up with someone in a bit. Someone that you and Owain both know, I think. Would you two come with me, please?" she said.

"Someone that we know?" Severa repeated, jarred from her contemplations. "Who? And what does this have to do with Nohr?" Then her scowl returned. "More importantly, what does this have to do with my diary?" she added dangerously.

"It has everything to do with Nohr," Morgan promised, though she carefully refrained from commenting on her sister's diary. "You'll understand as soon as we meet her. Just give me a moment to find Mom and tell her I'm with you, okay? This morning, she made me promise I wouldn't go anywhere without letting her know first."

Severa nodded slightly, doing her best to hide her dismay as she wondered just what sort of trouble her younger sister had managed to unearth this time.

* * *

A scant twenty minutes later, Severa found herself hiking along the snow-covered roads beside Morgan. Ophelia was now bundled up warmly and snoozing peacefully in her father's arms, much to Severa's chagrin. Owain had agreed to come along without question, but looked every bit as confused and worried as Severa.

When she saw that even Morgan seemed a bit anxious, Severa turned to Helios and Crescent – the only ones who seemed perfectly as ease – and gave them a searching look. "So, how did you two get roped into this?" Severa asked.

"We asked to come along, actually," Helios said. "Though Morgan hasn't actually explained what we're supposed to be doing, so we may end up changing our minds," he added, staring pointedly at the younger girl.

"I told you, I'll tell you everything once we've found everyone," Morgan protested.

"Everyone?" Severa muttered under her breath.

"Hel's just messing with you, Morgan," Crescent smiled. Then, to Severa, she added, "It's kind of funny, actually. Just this morning, Hel was telling me about how worried he was about Morgan getting herself into trouble again."

"Hey!" Morgan objected loudly. "I'm not in trouble!"

Helios and Crescent both turned to stare at her. Morgan blushed. "Yet," she added.

Crescent laughed lightly, while Helios shook his head, smiling ruefully. "And only a few hours, there she is, approaching us in the dining hall and telling us not to worry too much," Helios added.

"Worry about what?" Severa asked, glaring at her sister.

"Nothing," Morgan said, a little bit too quickly.

Severa stared at Morgan for a bit longer, seeing through the guilty expression easily enough. Her eyes began to smolder. "You are _not_ running away again," she said firmly.

"I'm not," Morgan hastened to assure her sister, but there was a distinctly nervous tremor in her voice.

Far from being reassured, Severa looked to Morgan despairingly. "What's wrong, Morgan?" she pleaded softly. "What's happening?"

"I'll explain, I promise," Morgan said, as she tried desperately to remember how far they were from their destination. "Please, Sis. Believe me. I'm not really looking forward to this, either." She spoke with surprising sincerity, but that alone was nowhere near enough to allay her sister's fears.

"But why?" Severa whispered.

"I met someone last night at the banquet," Morgan admitted. "She had snuck inside just to meet me, and to invite me to meet with her again today. I didn't really think much of it at the time, but later, I met with another old friend – more of a contact, really. He told me more about what's been happening in Valm since I – we – left."

"Contact?" Severa repeated, before immediately leaping to what was, in her mind, the worst possible conclusion. "You met with that Fireman again."

"The Fireman? But I thought you said he was an imposter?" Owain asked, recalling their most recent encounter with the mysterious assassin. "Or was the one we met before the real Fireman? Or were they the same man, after all?"

Morgan shrugged indifferently, as if it didn't matter. "He also told me more about the girl I had met at the banquet, which is why we're on our way to meet with her now," she explained.

"You said Owain and I know this girl, right?" Severa asked, her mind whirling. "Where from?"

"You'll see," Morgan said mysteriously, gesturing towards the small Feroxi tea shop, which had just come into view.

Morgan and her companions studied the small storefront curiously as they approached. Its quaint and delicate exterior seemed bizarrely out of place among the other, drabber Feroxi shops. Most of its windows were covered in embellished wooden shutters, but there was also a single, larger window covered instead by a transparent glass pane, displaying an assortment of colorful baked goods.

"Cozy," Helios observed dryly.

Crescent stepped right up to the glass window and peered through at the seating area beyond the display case. Through the thin curtains, she could see a few small, dainty tables crowding each other, with two cushioned chairs arranged around each. It was impossible to tell from the silhouettes alone whether there was anyone in the room. "Are you sure this is the right place, Morgan?" she asked. "It looks like this shop caters mostly to young couples. This doesn't really look like a suitable place for a large gathering."

"Really? That's odd," Morgan said. She reached for the door handle and tugged the door open.

A girl's voice came drifting through the doorway. "Oh, don't worry so much, Dad! I'll bring her by later so you can talk to her, too," she wheedled.

"You were only supposed to check and see if it was really her! Not ask her out on a date!" someone, presumably the girl's father, moaned.

"So what? She and I will have a wonderful time together. You want that, don't you?" the girl replied, unbothered by her father's tone. "We'll catch up to you later, okay? Unless you really want to stay and be a third wheel. You can if you want! It'll be a little tight, but we can pull up another chair."

Outside the tea shop, Morgan furrowed her brow, for she recognized Soleil's voice easily enough. "A date?" she muttered under breath.

Severa buried her face in her hands. "Please tell me that's not the girl we're here to see, Morgan," she pleaded.

Morgan looked thoroughly befuddled, and did not answer. Instead, she pulled the door open the rest of the way, then stuck her head inside. "Soleil, is that you?" she asked.

Severa froze. Soleil was not a common name, as far as she knew, and she had only ever known one Soleil before. It couldn't have been the Soleil she remembered, though. That Soleil was only a baby, roughly the same age as Ophelia, and she had been the child of a dear friend who Severa had never expected to see again.

"Hey, Morgan! Come on in!" the girl inside the shop chirped. "Don't mind my dad. He's a bit of a busybody."

Stunned, Severa looked to her husband, only to find him looking back at her with the same shocked expression plastered across his face. Then, without another word, they rushed for the doorway together, nearly bowling Morgan over in the process. Once inside, they looked past the pink-haired teen. Their eyes settled upon Soleil's grey-haired father, who appeared to be far, far older than he should have been.

An audible gulp escaped Inigo when he saw his old friends staring his way.

"This cannot be…" said a trembling Owain, staring in disbelief. Severa had been rendered entirely mute at the impossible sight.

The awkward silence stretched on for some time before Morgan finally spoke up. "Hey, Soleil?" she interrupted timidly. "I don't think this store's the best place for us to talk. Why don't we all go for a walk or something?"

Soleil looked a bit disappointed, but she nodded reluctantly. She laid a handful of coins on the table, then followed Morgan back outside.

* * *

For a long time, no one spoke. Morgan silently led the way down the street, then turned off the road, wandering away from the city proper. Severa and Owain remained stupefied, and kept glancing fearfully at Inigo as if they were expecting the older, grey-haired man to suddenly disappeared into thin air. Inigo seemed to be deliberately avoiding their gazes. Helios and Crescent had fallen a few paces behind the others. Confused as they were, they had the presence of mind to notice the tension in the air. Only Soleil seemed to be perfectly at ease, marching alongside Morgan with a sunny, whimsical smile upon her face.

Finally, after several minutes of this awkward silence, Severa found her voice once more. "This isn't happening," she whispered, shaking her head slowly, eyes distant and unfocused as if she were in a trance. "This isn't possible."

Morgan looked around, examining their surroundings. They were already half a mile away from the city, and there was no one else nearby, but they were standing along one of the more traveled roads of Ferox. "Just a moment," Morgan instructed.

"But…"

Ignoring Severa's protests, Morgan took her sister by the hand, then moved to stand beside a frozen pond about a hundred feet away from the main road, one ringed by several barren trees. They had just reached the pond when Severa tore her hand free of Morgan's grip and rounded on Inigo and Soleil.

"This isn't possible," Severa said again, her voice hoarse.

"What's not possible?" Soleil asked uncertainly.

"You!" Severa cried, losing control altogether. "You're supposed to be a baby! You were born only a few weeks before Ophelia! Look at her!" She gestured emphatically towards her own daughter, who was still resting in Owain's arms. At the loud noise, Ophelia stirred and began crying.

"And you!" Severa added to Inigo, who instinctively backed away several steps. "We left you behind! You _made_ us leave you behind! We thought we'd never see you again!"

"Calm down, Sis," Morgan said. She reached up and gently clasped her sister's arm. "You're scaring Ophelia."

Severa initially tried to pull away from Morgan's touch, but at the mention of Ophelia, she took a deep, ragged breath, then nodded stiffly.

"Thanks, Morgan," Inigo murmured awkwardly. Meeting the younger red-haired girl in person was even stranger than he had imagined. He had grown up alongside Morgan's older twin, after all, and the girl standing before him now looked, sounded, and acted exactly the way Inigo remembered. The resemblance made their unfamiliarity all the more jarring.

But that unfamiliarity didn't seem to be bothering Morgan at all. "No problem," she said brightly, her eyes shining with interest. "You're Inigo, right? I remember seeing you at a banquet years ago, in Ylisstol. You were dancing while your friend played the violin. Your face was as red as a ripe tomato."

"Ah… was it?" Inigo chuckled uncomfortably. "I'm surprised you remember. It was so long ago. You couldn't have been more than three or four at the time."

"Ten years ago for me, but it's been even longer for you, hasn't it?" Morgan stated, her tone growing somber.

"Apparently," Inigo said, glancing at Severa and Owain, who both appeared to be at least a decade younger than he was.

"How? Why?" Severa demanded.

"I have no idea," Inigo admitted.

"I do," Morgan replied, causing all eyes to turn to her. "At least, I think I do," she amended quickly.

"Really?" Soleil asked hopefully.

"Sure," Morgan nodded. Then, more quietly, as if she were speaking to herself, she added, "I don't really know where to begin, though."

"How about from the beginning?" Helios suggested wryly, as if to remind Morgan that neither he nor Crescent had the faintest inkling as to what was happening.

"Sure," Morgan agreed readily. "Inigo, these are my friends, Helios and Crescent. Hel, Cress, this is Inigo, one of Severa's friends who came back with her from the future."

"You told them about us?" Inigo asked, eyeing Helios and Crescent warily.

"I didn't know how else to explain having an older sister with the same name as me, and two older sisters both named Severa," Morgan said, shrugging. "Sis, you were wondering earlier how I already knew of Nohr, right?"

Severa nodded numbly.

"As soon as I was old enough to read on my own, Dad went through his library and gathered up all the books he didn't want me reading, for whatever reason," Morgan explained. "He stored those books up on the second floor, in the corner nearest to his workshop, and told me never to take any books from that shelf without asking him first."

"I think I remember that," Severa said, frowning.

"You went and read all of them, didn't you, Morgan?" Crescent guessed.

"Most of them," Morgan admitted. "At first, I listened and left those books alone, but when Dad didn't say anything more about them, I grew curious. I started going through them whenever Dad wasn't looking. Some of them were scary stories – I had nightmares after reading one of them, so I left the rest of those alone after that. There were romance stories, too, but they seemed kind of boring. I never finished any of them, so I didn't understand until much later why Dad didn't want me reading them. There were also books discussing dark magic and dark magic rituals, but those were too complicated for me to follow at the time. Finally, there was one book that seemed different from the others. It was an epic poem, a long, dramatic story told mostly in rhymes."

"Dad wanted to keep you from reading poetry?" Severa asked, startled.

"No, it was just that one book," Morgan said. "It was a story about a nameless prince from a corrupted family, who ended up betraying his family to bring peace back to his country. For that, he became known as the Recusant."

Severa's mouth went dry. She knew exactly why their father had not wanted Morgan to read that particular story, and it had little to do with Morgan, regardless of her age at the time.

"I thought it was a mistake at first, but Dad doesn't really make mistakes, you know?" Morgan continued, missing Severa's reaction. "But I couldn't just _ask_ him about it, so I decided to do a bit of digging instead, to see if maybe the poem had another meaning that I had missed."

"And did you… umm… find it?" Severa asked uncomfortably.

"Why Dad didn't want me reading that poem?" Nope," Morgan said, looking a bit disappointed. "But I did learn something interesting. The poem was actually based on another old legend, one about two warring kingdoms named Hoshido and Nohr. Nohr kidnapped one of the Hoshidan princes, a boy named Corrin, but ended up raising him as their own. Hoshido later rescued their prince, and at the height of the war, both kingdoms began pleading with Corrin to fight beside them. Prince Corrin refused and ended up battling against both kingdoms, including both his adoptive and birth families, before finally convincing them to end their feud."

Severa, Owain, and Inigo exchanged startled looks. They knew the story of Prince Corrin all too well, having lived through it themselves. At the same time, none of the three could fathom how stories of the war had reached Morgan, even as the war was taking place.

"Just how old is this legend?" Severa asked, unsettled.

"Hundreds of years old, at least," Morgan replied. "There aren't that many stories of New Valla. The ones I did find spoke of Corrin's siblings and friends, too. Remember how, back in Valm, you and Owain were calling yourselves Selena and Odin? Well, the stories mention a woman named Selena, a retainer to one of the Nohrian princesses, Princess Camilla. They also mention a man named Odin, a retainer to one of the Nohrian princes, Prince Leo."

Morgan then turned to Inigo. "Prince Leo had another retainer, too, a man named Niles. You're Niles, aren't you?" she guessed.

"W-what? Niles?" Inigo sputtered, as behind him, his daughter burst out laughing. "No way! That's not… I mean…"

"Not Niles?" Morgan said, scratching her head thoughtfully.

"Inigo was Laslow. He was Lord Xander's retainer," Severa interrupted, growing impatient. "Morgan, how is this possible? How could the three of us be mentioned in stories that were written long before we ever left for Nohr?"

"How did you and Lucina fight beside Mom and Dad during the Valmese War while you were both still only babies?" Morgan said, countering with a question of her own.

"Then not only did we stray from our world, we waded across the rivers of time," Owain said in a hushed tone.

Severa shook her head, rejecting the notion. "That was a different world and a different time. That's why there's now two of me, and two of you, for that matter," she reminded.

"New Valla was a different world, too," Morgan countered.

"New Valla?" Owain muttered thoughtfully.

"But Inigo went to the same place we did. Owain and I were gone for seven years, and we returned seven years later. Inigo was gone way longer than that. How could he be here now?" Severa challenged.

"This part may be a bit of a guess," Morgan began.

"Just a bit?" Helios interrupted innocently.

"More than a bit," Morgan admitted readily. "Since the stories of King Corrin are so old, and they came from another world altogether, they must have taken place a very, very long time ago. No human magic can change time, as far as I know." Morgan reached into her pocket, producing the crystal Severa and Owain claimed to have used to return to Valm. "Whoever created this crystal must have been extremely powerful to send you where he did."

"You could say that," Inigo said, recognizing the crystal immediately.

"The crystal didn't just bring the three of you to New Valla. It also sent you back in time," Morgan said. She then turned to look at Severa directly. "Then, after seven years had passed, you used the crystal again, and instead of returning you to the exact moment you left, you returned to a point in time seven years later, as if time had been flowing normally across both worlds."

"Umm… sure," Severa agreed tentatively.

"But there's no magic in this crystal now," Morgan explained, tossing the crystal to Severa, who nearly missed catching it. "When you and Owain came back, whatever magic it once had was used up."

"Then wouldn't Inigo have returned to sometime in the past?" Crescent asked.

"Probably," Morgan agreed. "But I don't think it was actually the crystal that sent them to New Valla. I think the crystal was tapping into a passageway between Valm and New Valla that already existed, changing it so that they could travel to the time they were needed at, and travel back later to carry on with their lives. That's why they had to travel to Valm first, near the Vault. The crystal was probably using one of the gateways inside the Vault."

"What's the Vault?" Soleil interrupted.

"The Vault of Many Ways. It's an underground labyrinth full of gateways that can take you to all sorts of places. Or get you very, very lost," Morgan replied nonchalantly. "You and your father first arrived there, didn't you?"

"You mean there's more of those gateways!?" Soleil exclaimed. An eager, adventurous look came over her.

"Sure," Morgan said absently. "Anyways, the point is, the crystal's magic was somehow holding time in place. Once it expired, the passageway between our worlds must have started trying to return the timeline to normal. Inigo and Soleil must have found the gateway on the other end and used it while this was happening." As she spoke, she drew her sword and began doodling in the snow at her feet, drawing some sort of diagram. "Like this, see?"

More confused than ever, Severa looked to the others for an explanation, only to find everyone else wearing the same bewildered expression. The nonsensical diagram Morgan had drawn wasn't much help.

Morgan sighed, then turned to Inigo and Soleil. "How long ago did the two of you return to Valm? Just under two months ago, right?" she asked.

"Something like that," Soleil said, sounding uncertain. "I'm not really sure. We spent most of it locked up in a dusty old cellar."

"Locked up!?" Severa and Owain gasped.

"So you two returned almost immediately after Severa and Owain did," Morgan pressed on, waving the interruption aside. "I bet if you had waited another year or two before trying to return, you _still_ would've returned at about the same time."

"Oh!" Crescent said, catching on at last. She reached over and drew one of Helios's swords from its sheath, then stepped forward to sketch a few additions to Morgan's diagram. "Because one end of the passageway was in the past, and another in the present, time must have passed much faster than normal in New Valla until it was caught up!"

"Exactly!" Morgan said, her excitement mounting now that at least one of her friends had caught on.

The others, even Helios, stared at Crescent quizzically, then back at the diagram.

"Okay. Sure. Whatever," Severa finally said, giving up altogether. Ignoring Morgan and Crescent's drawing, Severa turned to Inigo. "Why did you decide to come back? I thought you meant to live out the rest of your life with…" Her voice faded as she saw the pained look that suddenly came over her old friend. "Oh," she finished lamely, in a small voice.

Owain, too, seemed to understand. "I'm so sorry, Inigo," he said quietly.

"Don't be," Inigo said, shaking his head. "I never once regretted my decision."

Though she dreaded hearing any more, Severa found herself feeling torn by her curiosity. She and Owain had left many friends behind, fully expecting never to see any of them again. Now, Inigo's reappearance, coupled with Morgan's foggy explanation, made the distance between her and Nohr seem all the more final. She squirmed uncomfortably, wondering how to ask the pressing questions on her mind without tormenting her old friend any further.

Inigo smiled gently. "Don't worry, Severa," he reassured. "You know how it is – even if the emptiness never quite goes away, over the years, it becomes easier to speak of, at least."

"I guess," Severa mumbled.

"It happened several years ago, when Soleil was ten," Inigo said. "The peace between Hoshido and Nohr held, but there was some lingering resentment between the two kingdoms."

"Really? But everything seemed well when we left," Owain said.

"Everything _was_ well, at first," Inigo said. "The war had just ended, after all, and in the beginning, everyone was just relieved that the fighting was over. But the skies changing created problems that no one saw coming."

"Skies changing?" Morgan interrupted. "What do you mean? How can skies change?"

"The old border between Hoshido and Nohr was drawn by the skies," Inigo explained.

"One kingdom buried beneath the perpetual, grim overcast, one kingdom blessed by the azure skies," Owain said solemnly.

"But every ten years, the skies would change," Inigo went on. "For about a month, Nohr's skies would gradually grow a bit brighter, while Hoshido's skies would dim. Then, for a short while, they'd change entirely. Nohr's skies would shimmer with light, while Hoshido was blanketed in darkness. Even after the moment passed, throughout the following year, Nohr's skies would be a bit brighter than usual, and a thin, grey pall would veil Hoshido."

"So?" Severa asked, not understanding the problem.

"Lord Ryoma pledged to aid Nohr in rebuilding, but the year that follows the skies changing is always hard on Hoshido's people," Inigo explained. "The seasons are colder, and crops don't grow as quickly. Lord Ryoma's subjects began to resent him for sending so many valuable resources to Nohr in their time of need. In the meantime, many Nohrian commoners began to believe that Hoshido had abandoned them."

"They didn't start another war, did they?" Odin said worriedly.

"Thankfully, no. Wiser and cooler heads prevailed, for the most part," Inigo said. "Truthfully, it all worked out for the best, I think, with both countries recovering quite gracefully. The resentment never fully went away, though. There were riots, in both Hoshido and Nohr, and though they became less and less frequent over the decade that followed, the last of them happened right at the heart of Yato, when both royal families were gathered to celebrate the tenth anniversary of King Corrin's coronation."

"Yato? King Corrin?" Morgan asked.

"As soon as the war ended, Lord Xander and Lord Ryoma each offered some of their land to Lord Corrin," Severa explained. "Lord Corrin's new kingdom laid along the old Nohr-Hoshido border. He named it Yato, after his sword."

"Yato had escaped most of the disturbances unscathed, but on that night, both Nohrian and Hoshido protestors made their way to the capital, seeking the attention of their respective kings," Inigo continued. "The two groups met. Fighting broke out in the streets. We had no choice but to join in the fighting ourselves and put an end to the skirmish as quickly as possible." He spoke calmly and emotionlessly, but his voice shook slightly as he spoke, and a vacant stare came over Soleil. "That night marked the end to most of the fighting throughout the three kingdoms. Many were killed. I returned to Nohr afterwards, faced with the prospect of raising our children alone."

"Children?" Severa and Owain interrupted in unison, gaping at Inigo.

"Soleil and her brother," Inigo replied. "I cared for them as best I could. I continued serving Lord Xander as his retainer, until finally, four years later, he released me from his service."

"He fired you!?" Severa exclaimed, scandalized.

"It wasn't like that," Inigo said quickly. "With Lady Camilla and Lord Leo's help, he had already pieced together the truth about the three of us. They knew, too, why I had stayed when the two of you left. They told me that I had grown distant over the years, and that it would be best for me to return to my family. Lord Leo offered to help me search for a way back. Though I didn't expect him to succeed, I couldn't turn him down. A year later, he had traced old legends back to a gateway at the outskirts of Yato."

"What happened to your son?" Owain asked.

"He chose to stay behind, in New Valla, as we took to calling the world," Inigo said, and though there was a note of longing in his tone, he managed a wistful smile. "Like father, like son, I suppose."

"That's it? You let him stay behind alone?" Severa asked incredulously.

"Not alone," Inigo said quickly. "He took after his mother, and even as a little boy, he often preferred to keep to himself. He had several close friends in Yato, too, including Lord Corrin's own daughter, and when we were preparing to leave, he asked to stay behind. Soleil and I nearly changed our minds about leaving, but he insisted we go on without him."

"If Morgan's right about what happened, you may not be able to return and visit him," Crescent reminded, concerned. "You'll likely end up in the present, many decades after the two of you left."

"Centuries, more likely," Morgan corrected.

A sorrowful expression crossed Soleil's face, the saddest Morgan had ever seen her before. Inigo only sighed and nodded.

The thoughtful silence persisted for some time, until Severa remembered her earlier question, which had still not been answered. "What does all of this have to do with you, Morgan?" she asked. "It's terrible, but you said it yourself: no human magic can change time. It's not like there's anything you can do to help Inigo, is there?"

"I'm afraid not," Morgan said apologetically.

"Then what…"

"Remember those mercenaries we ran into on our way to the Vault?" Morgan asked.

"I think so," Severa frowned. "The ones you said were working for some countess or another, right?"

"Countess?" Helios and Crescent asked together.

"That's the one," Morgan nodded. Then, to her other friends, she explained, "One of the lesser Valmese nobles, a woman calling herself Countess Oathkeeper, claims to be the daughter of Emperor Walhart's tactician. She's been hiring mercenaries to stir up trouble all over Valm, hoping that if the misery she creates spreads far enough, she can rally the suffering commoners behind her and rebuild the Valmese Empire. Her mercenaries captured Inigo and Soleil when they returned to Valm."

"Yet our bygone friends stand before us now. Evil has already been thwarted this day, or several days ago, rather," Owain reasoned.

"Not exactly," Inigo said hesitantly. "Soleil and I made it away, but not before they questioned me. They know now that Nohr, Hoshido, and Yato exist. They even know how to reach New Valla."

"Then let this countess try to conquer Nohr," Severa retorted defiantly. "She'll find more of a fight than she bargained for. _Much_ more."

"She has no reason to attack Nohr," Morgan interrupted. "Her mercenaries were at the Vault searching for a gateway to the continent of Jugdral. Rumor has it that they're hunting for the Valkyrie Staff, a staff of immense power capable of resurrecting the dead."

Severa's face paled as she suddenly realized what her younger sister was hinting at. She looked to Owain in horror, but her husband only stared at her blankly, not quite following.

"A staff that can bring back the dead? Is that really possible?" Helios mused.

"Why not?" Morgan shrugged. "There's plenty of magic we don't really understand. The trouble is, the legends speak of other staves with similar powers, too. For instance, there's the Aum Staff that was used by the Hero King's allies here in Archanea. There's also the story of Prince Corrin and the…"

"The Bifrost Staff," Severa whispered.

Owain looked at his wife, his face shining with unadulterated terror, as, at long last, he understood.

"It's not just a myth, is it?" Morgan asked, though she had already known that the staff was real. She turned to Helios and Crescent, though she angled herself to include Soleil in the conversation, too. "As the story goes, Prince Corrin found the Bifrost Staff during his travels – a staff which, like the Valkyrie Staff, contained the power to bring a fallen comrade back from the dead. His first thought was to use it on an ally who had recently died protecting him. Instead, he was persuaded to honor his friend's sacrifice by allowing her to rest in peace, instead of dragging her back into the war."

"That's not quite…" Severa began to interrupt, but she caught herself quickly, realizing that the truth wouldn't be easy to explain. Thankfully, Morgan hadn't noticed her slip.

"If the story is true, the staff could still be out there somewhere," Crescent said, catching on.

"And if that crazed countess finds it, she'll bring Emperor Walhart back from the grave," Severa guessed, her countenance growing grim.

Morgan nodded, her youthful face reflecting her sister's fears. "The Conqueror's rise to power began with a handful of untrained, poorly-equipped soldiers from an insignificant country of struggling farmers, yet it took only a few weeks for him to defeat all of his neighbors and assemble a nigh insurmountable army," she reminded. "If he returns now, he'll have an army of bandit mercenaries at his beck and call, armed with equipment salvaged from his first war, while the rest of Valm is in disarray. If word gets out that he's conquered death itself, how long do you think it'll take him to overrun Valm a second time?"

Morgan's question was met by a brooding silence. Even Helios and Crescent had read enough about the Valmese War to understand the gravity of the situation. Only Soleil, who knew little of Ylissean and Valmese history, seemed entirely nonplussed.

Finally, Owain spoke up. "This countess must be stopped."

"Even if we stop Countess Oathkeeper, she may have already shared what she's learned with her allies," Morgan disagreed. "Our only choice is to find the staff first and destroy it."

"You mean to search for the Bifrost Staff yourself?" Severa said incredulously. "You said hundreds of years have passed in Nohr and Hoshido since we left. None of us can tell you where the staff is now; for all we know, the staff was used up or destroyed long ago."

"Then once we're certain the staff is really gone, we can come home," Morgan said, though she didn't seem entirely convinced.

"The staff could be a national treasure kept in Nohr, Hoshido, or Yato, guarded around the clock. What then, Morgan?" Severa demanded stubbornly.

"Amatsu was considered a national treasure of Chon'sin, yet Countess Oathkeeper's mercenaries managed to steal it," Morgan pointed out. "Wolfberg wasn't safe in Castle Roseanne, either."

"What!?" Inigo exclaimed. "Someone broke into Castle Roseanne's treasury?"

"Yeah. Morgan did," Severa said, giving her younger sister a hard stare.

"Don't worry. I returned it," Morgan said, ignoring Inigo's indignant look.

"Morgan, I don't think this is a good idea," Severa said, cutting off Inigo, who looked to be bursting with questions. "If you're right about the countess and her ambitions, this is too important and too dangerous for you to handle alone."

"I wasn't planning on going alone," Morgan argued. "Inigo was heading back there, anyways. I'm just going with him to help."

"I'm going, too!" Soleil interrupted, not wanting to be left out.

"Inigo and Soleil both," Morgan corrected herself smoothly. "And Hel and Cress said they'd come with me."

"But…" Severa began to protest.

"Who else can we send?" Morgan asked helplessly. "Should I tell Mom and Dad about this? Or Uncle Chrom?"

"Well, no," Severa admitted.

"Then maybe we can hire some mercenaries of our own, then," Morgan went on sarcastically. "If we're lucky, they'll fight better than the ones Khan Flavia fielded yesterday. If we're _really_ lucky, they won't turn around and sell the staff straight to the countess when they find it."

"What about Lucina and her Shepherds?" Owain suggested.

"When's the last time they've been in a real fight?" Morgan challenged.

Years, Owain thought, but did not say aloud.

Severa's face fell as the truth dawned upon her. Ylisse had grown peaceful and complacent as of late, and their options were indeed quite limited. Ylisse still had a standing military, but they could hardly march soldiers blindly to another world on what could very well be a wild goose chase. Severa knew that despite her own reservations, Morgan was as good of a candidate for such a task as could be found. Even if she wasn't, the young tactician had clearly made up her mind already, and would not be easily dissuaded.

"Please, Sis," Morgan pleaded. "I just need you to help me convince Mom and Dad to let me go without telling them the whole story. I can't just leave Inigo and Soleil to deal with this themselves, but I don't want Mom and Dad to worry too much, either."

Severa shot Inigo a hard look.

"We might need help," Inigo hesitantly conceded. "At first, I meant to return alone and warn Lord Xander, but the man who rescued Soleil and I insisted that we speak to Morgan first. Now I understand why; if it's really been as long as Morgan says it's been, I won't know anyone there, or where to begin searching for the staff myself."

"Of course not," Severa said wearily. A small voice in her mind nagged at her, for she knew that Morgan was right and there was no better way. Yet, in her stubbornness, she wasn't quite ready to surrender. "Give me some time to think about this, Morgan. Okay?"

At first, Morgan looked ready to argue. She saw the pained look in Severa's eyes, though, and seemed to think better of it. "Okay," she agreed.


	5. Chapter 3: Lingering Clouds

**~ Chapter 3 ~**

 **Lingering Clouds**

All throughout dinner, Morgan could not help but periodically sneak glances at Severa, trying to catch her eldest sister's eye.

They had parted from the others shortly after their conversation by the frozen pond. After leaving Morgan with instructions on how to find them, Inigo and Soleil had returned to hiding, not wanting to be recognized quite yet. Helios and Crescent had wandered off on their own, and, soon after returning to the city proper, Owain left to spend the day with his mother and father.

Not long after, Severa and Morgan ran into their parents and the younger Severa. Morgan reluctantly agreed to join her sisters in perusing the clothing and jewelry the Feroxi markets had to offer, and for the remainder of the afternoon, not another word was spoken about the countess, the Bifrost Staff, or Morgan's intended journey.

"Is something wrong, Morgan?"

At the sound of her father's voice, Morgan turned and looked at him innocently, even as she inwardly cursed her own lack of diligence. "What do you mean?" she asked.

"You seem distracted," Robin observed.

"I do?" Morgan asked. She feigned a yawn. "I guess. It's been a long day. We spent almost four hours walking around that marketplace."

"We did not!" the younger Severa protested.

"It was closer to five hours, I think," the older Severa said, a faint smile spreading across her lips when she saw her younger self pouting. "But it was worth every minute, wasn't it?"

Morgan only rolled her eyes and resumed idly jabbing at her food with her fork.

Severa made an exaggerated motion of peering around the warm and brightly lit room. "Come to think of it, it _is_ a bit stuffy in here after spending the entire day outdoors," she remarked. She rose from her chair and stretched. "I'm going to step outside for a quick walk. I'll be right back, alright?" She shot Morgan a meaningful look.

"I'll come with you," Morgan said hastily, right on cue. She tried to rise from her chair as well, but her mother interceded too quickly for that.

"Finish your dinner first, Morgan," Cordelia said, placing a hand firmly upon her youngest daughter's shoulder. "You've barely touched your food!"

Morgan looked pleadingly towards her oldest sister.

Stifling a laugh, Severa sat herself back down. "You can finish eating. I'll wait," she promised reassuringly.

* * *

Once outside, Morgan and Severa wandered wordlessly around the building for a few minutes before the younger girl's patience finally wore thin. "Well?" she asked impatiently.

"Well what? I just wanted to go for a walk," Severa said, unable to resist teasing her younger sister.

"Sis!"

"Alright, alright," Severa laughed. Her good humor died away shortly after. "Look, Morgan. I've been thinking, and I know what we can tell Mom and Dad if you're absolutely sure you want to accompany Inigo and Soleil."

"I am," Morgan said at once.

"But first, there's something I have to ask you," Severa continued smoothly, as if Morgan hadn't spoken. "If there was someone else who could go – someone more qualified and more experienced, who we could trust – would you be willing to let them handle this mess?"

Morgan hesitated, for Severa's rather leading tone made the question sound like a test of some sort.

"You would still want to go with them, wouldn't you?" Severa guessed confidently.

Morgan teetered for a bit longer before nodding slightly. "I'd still want to help," she said in a small voice.

"Why?" Severa asked gently. "Just what are you trying to prove, Morgan? And to who?"

There was another long pause.

"I'm not sure," Morgan finally admitted. "I'm just… I'm just tired of always falling short. I want to get something right for once."

Severa stared at Morgan, confused. "What, destroying a false god and freeing thousands from that cursed Solcryst wasn't good enough for you?" she asked.

A pained look came over Morgan, and suddenly, Severa remembered how distraught her sister had been after their supposed victory. Her expression softened.

"You aren't still blaming yourself over that one friend of Helios's, are you?" Severa asked worriedly.

"Among others," Morgan whispered.

"Among others?" Severa echoed.

"How many of the Sun Guard did we kill that night, Sis?" Morgan asked. "How many of them could've been saved if only I had figured out Icarus's secret sooner?"

"Morgan…"

"How many people died that night because I didn't defeat Icarus sooner?" Morgan demanded shakily. "I messed up. Icarus was surprised and distracted. I could've destroyed the crystal, then and there, before you had a chance to react, but instead, I was caught up in my own excitement. I wasn't thinking straight. How many people ended up paying for that mistake with their lives?"

"The Sun Spires would've gone out as soon as you destroyed the Solcryst," Severa reminded. "Even had you destroyed it sooner, they would've had to endure the rest of the night."

Morgan shrugged and remained silent, her expression stony.

"You can't be so hard on yourself," Severa continued. "Nothing ever goes exactly the way you want. What matters is that we won, Morgan, and that we all did the best we could – especially you! No one could've reasonably expected or asked for anything more!"

"But it wasn't enough," Morgan protested. "It's never enough." She looked away from her older sister and stared up into the dark, overcast sky. "Mom told me a story once. A long time ago, bandits attacked a village in Ylisse. One of Mom and Dad's old friends was there, a young farmer. Donnel was his name. You knew him, didn't you?"

Severa nodded slowly, for she had indeed met the man.

"Donnel escaped when the bandits found his village. He found Dad and Uncle Chrom, and together, they went back to the village. They saved the village, and just about everyone living in it. Then Donnel went on to become a Shepherd and a war hero," Morgan said, her expression wooden. "The refugees living in Water's Edge weren't so lucky, were they? They found me instead. And they had to watch their families die, and their homes burn to the ground."

A lump swelled in Severa's throat. She hadn't paid the villagers of Water's Edge much thought before, but it seemed painfully obvious now that they had been through great loss. And Morgan… the thought of her thirteen-year-old sister – or had she been even younger at the time? – standing amidst a burning ruin, over the corpses of those she had hoped to save, was almost too much to bear.

"I couldn't save them. Just like how I couldn't save Tohl, and all the others who died that night in Monolith. Just like how I couldn't save Ellie," Morgan said, her eyes glistening with tears. "If I can go with Inigo and Soleil, maybe I can help them, and this time, finally, things will turn out differently. Or maybe it'll end exactly the same way. But if I don't at least try, I'll never know, will I?"

Now, it was Severa's turn to look away. The haunted look of inadequacy in Morgan's eyes was all too familiar to her; she had seen that same look in the mirror far too many times. "I suppose waiting until you're older to find out is out of the question?" she asked resignedly.

"If I do, and something terrible happens to Inigo and Soleil, I'd never stop wondering if there was something I could've done," Morgan said. "And if it turns out worse than that, if the countess finds the staff and brings Emperor Walhart back to life, and another war breaks out in Valm…"

Severa raised her hand to interrupt, having heard enough. "Alright, Morgan. I'll help you, but on one condition," she said.

"Only one?" Morgan asked, surprised.

"Only one," Severa said, nodding. "I'm coming with you, too."

"You said you and Owain were done wandering off," Morgan reminded.

"We were, but Inigo's our friend. It never felt right leaving him behind the way we did, even if there was nothing else we could've done. I can't help but feel as if this is at least partially our fault, too," Severa said. "And, more to the point, it's the only way we'll be able to keep Mom and Dad from worrying about you, short of bringing them along with you."

"But what about…"

"I'll talk with Owain tomorrow. I think he'll want to come, too. If I'm right, we have friends and family here who can look after Ophelia while we're gone," Severa said, though her resolve faltered slightly. For many years, Severa had been angry with her own mother for leaving her and her sister behind. Now, she was about to set out along the same course with her own daughter.

Morgan considered her sister's words carefully, then nodded. "Okay," she agreed. "I was thinking about asking around for more help, anyways. We'll have to move quickly, though. I was hoping to leave tomorrow."

"Fine. We'll talk with Mom and Dad in the morning," Severa promised. "When we do, just follow my lead, alright?"

"Sure," Morgan agreed.

* * *

The following morning, once she and her family had gathered for their morning meal, Severa announced her plans to return to Valm. She inwardly braced herself as her parents looked to her in surprise; though neither of them seemed overly concerned, Severa knew the conversation would only grow more difficult from here on out.

"For how long?" Cordelia asked.

"Not too long, I hope," Severa said, suddenly realizing that she and Morgan hadn't really discussed their impending trip in detail. "Look… it's like this. Do you remember when, seven years ago, Owain and I left Ylisse together? We were joined by a friend of ours while passing through Ferox."

"Duke Virion's son, Inigo," Robin guessed. "According to your sister, Inigo had a falling out with his friend, right about when you and Owain were last seen in Ferox. He disappeared soon after, too."

Severa nodded numbly. It occurred to her then that, between caring for Ophelia and catching up with her family and friends in Ylisstol, she hadn't found the time to see the older Morgan since returning to Ylisse. That long overdue visit seemed even farther off now. "Inigo decided to come with us," Severa said, trying to shelve her guilt-ridden thoughts. "The three of us wound up traveling a lot further than we had planned on. When Owain and I decided it was time for us to come home, Inigo chose to stay behind."

"Alone?" Cordelia looked appalled.

"With his new family," Severa corrected, putting her parents at ease. "But before we parted ways, he gave me a letter for his parents. I meant to deliver it while I was in Valm, but… well, I lost my nerve, and then Owain and I got a little bit sidetracked." She looked pointedly at Morgan, who smiled unabashedly. "I had forgotten all about the letter until last night. It's been far too long already; I really ought to bring the letter to the duke as soon as possible."

"Must you deliver the letter yourself?" Cordelia asked. "Come spring, there will be plenty of ships setting sail for Valm."

"Ylisse sends messengers to Roseanne every year," Robin added. "I'm sure they can deliver your letter for you."

"Inigo wanted us to deliver it personally," Severa said, feigning reluctance.

"Fair enough," Robin said reasonably. "But there won't be many ships leaving for Valm until the winter months are over and the weather clears. It'll be safer – not to mention faster – to return to Ylisstol with us. I was planning to prepare another batch of warp powder upon our return."

"Getting to Valm won't be a problem," Severa said, glancing at Morgan. "When I mentioned the letter to Morgan, she told me that she still has some warp powder set aside."

Morgan nodded cheerily, hiding her dismay, for Severa's story sounded disappointedly flimsy. "Plenty," she chirped.

"Plenty?" Robin asked, arching one eyebrow. "I thought you said you had nearly run out."

"Plenty for this one trip," Severa corrected quickly. "But Morgan asked to come along with me, too. She said she made a few friends in Roseanne during her last visit."

Predictably, both Robin and Cordelia looked to Morgan in alarm.

"Yep! Sai'ren lives right next to the castle, too. We won't need to go far out of our way to see him," Morgan added, playing along. Her hopes plummeted when she noticed her father's thoughtful look, and she nearly groaned aloud.

Cordelia also seemed quite uncertain. "You never mentioned…" she began, but she fell silent when Robin gently placed a hand upon her shoulder.

"There's quite a lot Morgan's never mentioned to us," Robin reminded, a ghost of a smile flitting across his face. "How long are you two planning to stay in Roseanne?"

Taken off guard by her father's unexpected approval, Severa proved far less adept than Morgan at hiding her surprise. "I… umm… I don't…" she said, fumbling for an answer.

"A week, maybe two?" Morgan estimated, stepping in hastily.

"Alright," Robin said, nodding acceptingly. This time, even Morgan couldn't completely hide her surprise. "Are Owain and Ophelia going with you?"

"Owain, yes. Ophelia will be staying with Lissa while we're gone," Severa replied.

"Sounds like you have everything worked out already," Robin said. "We'll see you both in Ylisstol soon, then."

"Take care of each other, alright?" Cordelia added, and though her words were aimed towards both Morgan and Severa, her gaze remained fixed upon her eldest daughter.

"We will," Severa said, flashing her mother a reassuring smile. "Don't worry, Mom. We'll be home before you know it."

* * *

"Who's Sai'ren?" Severa asked curiously, once she and Morgan were alone.

"He runs the Thieves' Guild in Roseanne."

Severa stopped in her tracks and stared, dumbfounded. "Thieves' Guild!?"

"Well, he used to run the guild, anyways," Morgan corrected herself. "Then someone broke in and stole all of his records, turning them over to Duke Virion. There wasn't much of a guild left after that."

"And he's a friend of yours?" Severa asked incredulously, her head spinning as she tried to keep up.

"Hardly. Who do you think broke into his headquarters?" Morgan said, smiling wryly. "His thieves kidnapped a girl about my age from her home village. I followed the kidnappers all the way back to Roseanne and exposed them, hoping that Duke Virion's men would rescue the girl." Strangely, there was no pride in Morgan's words. It was almost as if she were ashamed of what she had done.

Severa considered her younger sister carefully, remembering Morgan's words from the night before. "And did they?" she finally asked. "Did they save her?"

Morgan's smile faded. "She had already been sent away," she admitted. "I don't know what became of her after that. I tried to find her myself, but I couldn't find any trace of her."

"Oh." Unsure of what else to say, Severa fell silent after that.

Thankfully, Morgan changed the subject not long after. "Hey, there's someone else I need to see before we leave."

"I'll go with you," Severa offered.

"You should go say goodbye to Ophelia," Morgan disagreed. "I know I told Mom and Dad that we'd only be gone for a couple of weeks, but we may end up needing more time than that. Besides, I don't know if Owain can find his way to where we're meeting on his own."

Severa felt another guilty pang as she thought of her daughter. "I guess you're right," she said reluctantly. As she watched her younger sister stride purposefully away, she could only wonder what was in store for her and her family.

* * *

Finding her quarry proved about as difficult as Morgan had anticipated. The only clue she had, Princess Lucina, quickly proved to be a dead end. Morgan then searched the visitor's lodgings and the nearby city commons, but to no avail. She was on the verge of giving up her search altogether when another possibility occurred to her, and she made her way towards Arena Ferox instead, seeking the lodgings reserved for the Feroxi khans and their personal retainers.

Morgan's timing proved fortunate. "There you are!" she called, spotting Yashiro as he exited the cold, drab building.

Yashiro looked quite surprised to see Morgan, but he recovered quickly. "Good morning, Morgan," he greeted politely. "Were you looking for me?"

"Yeah," Morgan nodded. "I tried asking Lucina, but she didn't even know you were in town."

"Really? I'm surprised she didn't recognize Cia and me during the tournament," Yashiro mused.

"Cia?"

"My wife," Yashiro explained. "She left for home last night; she's a rather doting mother, and being away, even for only a week, has left her worried to no end."

"You're married?" Morgan's eyes widened. "And you have children?"

"Indeed," Yashiro said. "But that's not the question you sought me out for, is it? Truthfully, I wasn't expecting you to take me up on my offer so soon."

"Actually…" Morgan began hesitantly, trying to gracefully back away from the conversation. She was already uncomfortable with the idea of dragging Severa and Owain away from their daughter; taking a complete stranger from his family was simply unthinkable.

Yashiro's eyes sparkled knowingly as he recognized the source of Morgan's uncertainty. "My offer was sincere, Morgan. Fear not for my family; Cia is more than capable of looking after herself and our children," he said reassuringly.

"Well…"

"Tell me, what's the matter?" Yashiro invited gently. "Something grave must have come up indeed for you to consider leaving your home and family again."

"How did you know I've left home before?" Morgan asked suspiciously. "And how did you know I was thinking about leaving again?"

"When you ran away the first time, your father sent word to practically everyone he knew, asking us to keep an eye out for you," Yashiro explained. "It came as quite the surprise seeing you, first in the arena, then afterwards with your family. Now you've come to me for help, rather than your father and his many loyal friends. I can only surmise that he does not know about whatever it is that is troubling you."

Morgan found herself with more questions than ever, but with the sun slowly rising towards its zenith, she knew the rest of her companions were waiting. "Mom and Dad know I'm leaving, but not where I'm headed," she admitted. "It's… sort of complicated. One of the Valmese nobles is trying to start a war. If she succeeds, I'm afraid it'll reach us here in Ylisse, too."

"Have you warned the exalt? Or the khans?" Yashiro asked, concerned.

"Not yet. Like I said – complicated," Morgan said evasively. "There isn't much the exalt or the khans can do, so there's no sense in worrying them, is there? I know how we can put an end all of this, though. A couple of my friends are coming with me, as well as my sister, and Owain, too, but we can use all the help we can find."

"How long do you think your journey will take?" Yashiro asked, stroking his chin thoughtfully.

"I'm not sure. As long as a month, perhaps?" Morgan guessed uncertainly. "I know it's a lot to ask, but…"

"Alright. I'll join you," Yashiro agreed. "Allow me but a moment to prepare a letter for Cia, and we can be on our way."

Morgan stared at Yashiro, stunned, for she had not expected him to agree so easily and with so much left unexplained.

"Time is of the essence, is it not?" Yashiro reasoned, a wry grin upon his lips. "I have many questions for you still, but it sounds like we'll have plenty of time to talk on the road."

* * *

There was another surprise waiting for Morgan when she and Yashiro arrived at their destination, the isolated, frozen pond where the rest of her companions awaited them.

Helios and Crescent looked as if they had been there for quite some time already, judging from the dusting of freshly fallen snow upon their clothing. Severa, Owain, Inigo, and Soleil were already there, too, but they were accompanied by another, a woman with long, dark blue hair and a distinctive brand in one of her eyes.

"Lucina? What are you doing here?" Morgan asked, flabbergasted.

"What do you think I'm doing here?" Lucina asked, shifting slightly to show Morgan her traveling bag. "I'm coming with you."

Morgan turned and stared accusingly at Severa.

"Don't look at me. I didn't say anything," Severa said defensively.

"I overheard Owain speaking with Aunt Lissa this morning. Then you came by, asking about Yashiro. It wasn't hard to piece the rest together," Lucina explained. She glanced curiously over her shoulder at Inigo and Soleil as she spoke; contrary to her words, she still seemed to be trying to process Inigo's unnaturally-aged appearance.

Morgan considered trying to bluff her way out, but quickly realized that Severa's story about visiting Duke Virion wouldn't hold this time. "Are you sure you want to come with us?" she asked, stalling for time. "You don't even know where we're headed."

"I'm sure," Lucina said, her expression firmly set. "I know I'm not about to talk you out of whatever you're trying to do, so the least I can do is follow and keep you safe."

"But…"

"Why don't we go and ask your father what he thinks?" Lucina suggested, smiling impishly.

Morgan blanched, but before she could say anything, Helios spoke up. "You wouldn't have to go far," he interrupted grimly.

Lucina looked up, her smile disappearing when she saw Robin approaching them. Severa began fidgeting nervously at the same time, while Morgan only closed her eyes, remaining perfectly still.

"Morgan? May I have a word with you?"

With a nervous swallow, Morgan opened her eyes and slowly turned to face her father.

"You aren't in trouble," Robin said reassuringly. "I just wanted to talk, and to give you this." He held up a small satchel as he spoke.

Morgan looked at the satchel uncertainly, then nodded reluctantly before following her father away from the rest of her companions.

* * *

"Here," Robin said, handing the satchel to Morgan once they were alone.

"What is it?" Morgan asked, peeking into the satchel only to find its contents wrapped neatly in cloth. A familiar, tantalizing aroma wafted forth.

"I packed a couple of books that I thought you'd like. One of them is an old spell tome of mine that you might find useful. Another is my personal copy of your favorite strategy manual. This one contains all the annotations I've made over the years," Robin explained.

Rendered speechless, Morgan could only gape at her father.

"There's also a basket of your favorite honey wafers inside, and an apple pie for Severa," Robin continued. "Those are from your mother. She rushed to borrow a kitchen just to make them for you two. She would have come to see you off herself, but she was afraid she'd be unable to hold herself together. She says she loves you both, and wants you to come home as soon as you can."

"I love her, too, Dad," Morgan whispered, fighting back tears of her own. "I love you both. I promise. I'll come home soon."

"I know," Robin said warmly, kneeling so that he could smile at his youngest daughter, face to face. "Just promise me one thing, okay? No matter where you and Severa are headed, promise me you'll look after your sister, and that you'll let her look after you, too."

Morgan stared at her father, stricken.

"I'm afraid Severa's never been a convincing liar," Robin said, chuckling softly. "And unless my eyes deceive me, that older gentleman standing beside her bears a striking resemblance to Duke Virion's son. Also, I sincerely hope you weren't serious about visiting Sai'ren; he was put to death months ago."

"You know of Sai'ren?" Morgan gasped.

"Duke Virion of Roseanne has been keeping Ylisse abreast of current events in Valm. His last letter mentioned an anonymous package he received, containing records implicating dozens of criminals entangled in a certain Thieves Guild. It did not take long for the captured thieves to turn against each other and their former leader," Robin explained nonchalantly. "You were the one who left the stolen records for Virion, weren't you?"

Morgan nodded hesitantly. "We weren't really planning to visit Sai'ren," she admitted. "I've never even spoken with him before. I was just panicking earlier; Sis didn't tell me what her plan was, and when she mentioned Roseanne, Sai'ren was just the first name I thought of."

"That's a relief," Robin said lightly. "It's alright, Morgan. I'm sure you have a good reason for not wanting to tell your mother and me where you're headed. We're just glad you and Ellie aren't traveling alone this time."

"You aren't mad?" Morgan asked timidly.

"I'm not mad," Robin promised. "Just worried, and I'd be a lot less worried if I knew how long you're planning to be gone for."

"I wish I knew, too," Morgan admitted. "We shouldn't be gone for more than a few weeks, though. I hope."

This time, Robin's smile was bittersweet. "I suppose I'll just have to live with that," he sighed, before bending down to embrace Morgan. "I love you, Morgan. See you soon, okay?"

"See you soon," Morgan promised, hugging her father back. Even after letting go, she found that she couldn't quite tear her gaze away from her father's wistful expression, and she backed away slowly, doing her best to smile. Distracted as she was, she walked straight into Lucina.

"I'm sorry, Uncle Robin," Lucina apologized, catching and steadying Morgan. "I should have come to you right away, but I was afraid I was already too late, and thought it best to follow if I could."

"You know you don't have to do this, right?" Robin said.

Lucina shrugged. "Whatever Morgan and Severa are doing must be important. More important than what I've been doing in Ylisse, anyways. The Shepherds can carry on without me for a while," she said. "But, when you see my mother and father again, could you tell them something for me? Tell them I'm sorry for leaving them so suddenly."

"I will," Robin promised. He waved goodbye one last time, then turned and began making his way back towards the city proper.

* * *

The biggest trouble with warp powder, Morgan thought to herself as she tried to nestle herself comfortably within the dark, cool pantry, was that it left one feeling completely helpless. Traveling home, to where danger was scarce and her family and friends were close at hand, was safe enough.

Traveling to a place like Valm was a different story altogether, which is why she currently found herself holed up in one of the disused corners of Castle Roseanne. It was the same hiding place she had used before when she had broken in to steal Wolfberg, situated beyond the corridors that were frequently patrolled and only a short distance from the castle's treasury.

The more comfortable approach would have been to retreat back to Water's Edge and wait for the magically-induced weakness to pass. Unfortunately, Morgan suspected her companions would be waiting just beyond the conjured rift, and a dusty old cellar was probably not what they were thinking of when Morgan had promised to warp herself to somewhere safe and welcoming. Left without any other recourse, Morgan tugged the quilt she had brought with her over an ancient sack of moldy potatoes before laying down with a weary sigh, anticipating an uneventful, yet restless nap.

What she did not anticipate was the pantry door creaking open a mere half an hour later. A castle guard carrying an oil lantern peered inside, his bored expression showing that he hardly expected to find anything of interest. When he saw Morgan, his jaw dropped, and he stared silently for several seconds as he tried to process the bizarre scene before him.

"Umm… hello," Morgan managed with a weak smile. Her hand began inching towards her pouch while her mind spun frantically, searching for another way out of her present predicament. She only had two portions of warp powder left, one of which she was saving to return to Ylisstol.

"Oy! Hands in the air!" the guard demanded suddenly, thrusting his pike forward.

"Alright, alright!" Morgan surrendered quickly, holding up her empty hands as ordered. The guard seemed surprisingly antsy for an adult man confronting an unarmed girl less than half his size, but Morgan knew better than to test her captor's patience. "Just don't stab me… please?"

"How did you get in here?" the guard snarled, blustering to hide his discomfort.

"One of the windows on the second floor was unlatched," Morgan bluffed, trying to sound as afraid as she possibly could. "I was just looking around, but I was scared, so I hid in here. I'm sorry!"

The guard didn't seem impressed. "A likely story," he sneered. "This pantry was empty when I checked only an hour ago!"

Morgan stared at the guard in disbelief. "You've been checking inside this pantry every hour?" she asked incredulously.

"Of course," the guard grumbled, reaching for his belt and producing a pair of iron manacles. "We've been patrolling every damned corner of the castle for months. Duke's orders."

"Duke's orders?" Morgan echoed, shrinking away and eyeing the heavy chains nervously.

The guard grinned wickedly as he advanced upon Morgan. "You didn't think you were the first to come waltzing in here, did you? The way I heard it, some homeless brat dared to help himself to some of the duke's trinkets," he explained. "Sounds like the dirty little thief got away with it, too, since the duke was quite certain it could happen again. Tell you the truth, we were all beginning to think the duke had lost his marbles along with that rusty old axe. Bad luck for you, I suppose."

Bad luck indeed. Realizing she had little hope of a clean escape, Morgan sighed and held out her hands, allowing herself to be chained up without further argument.

* * *

Though Morgan had already surrendered peacefully and had been ready to follow without complaint, she wasn't quite able to keep up with her captor's pace. Before long, she found herself being dragged along the ground in a rather undignified manner.

The brutish guard showed no sympathy, and even seemed to enjoy his young victim's plight, quickening his pace and leering down at Morgan from time to time, as if daring her to complain.

Morgan only rolled her eyes and stayed silent until they finally arrived at one of the castle's elegant dining rooms.

"Milord," the guard said, dipping into a respectful bow. "We have an intruder. I caught this little thief hiding downstairs in the disused pantry."

"Really now? In the pantry, you say?"

Morgan recognized Duke Virion's voice at once, though from her uncomfortably awkward angle, she could see little more than his feet. Still, she could readily imagine his expression, given his tone of surprise.

"Yes, milord. Shall I deliver her to the dungeons to wait until you are free to attend to her?" the guard offered. As he spoke, he shot Morgan a triumphant and vindictive look.

Throwing common sense to the winds, Morgan childishly stuck her tongue out at the guard.

"Or perhaps I ought to bring her to the butcher instead, ill-mannered beast that she is," the guard added spitefully, tugging sharply on the chains and causing Morgan to bump her head against one of the table's legs.

"Ow!"

"Her?" Virion repeated, puzzled.

"Not the burglar you were expecting, I'm sure," the guard said.

"I see. Nevertheless, there's no reason to intimidate our guest in such an uncouth manner," Virion said kindly. "Please, allow her to stand and speak freely, my good man."

"As you wish."

With a loud snicker, the guard hefted the chain upwards, forcing Morgan upright and lifting her off the ground, leaving her to dangle helplessly in the air by her shackled hands.

"Hello," Morgan greeted the duke cheerily, with as much poise as she could muster. Though only the duke had spoken so far, Morgan saw now that he wasn't alone. Lady Olivia, the duke's lovely, pink-haired wife, and their son, a younger twin to Inigo, were both present as well. For a long moment, the duke and his family could only stare at Morgan in shock.

"Morgan!?" Virion finally gasped aloud. His expression shifted as he suddenly realized who the dark-haired waif he had encountered a few months ago, the thief who had precipitated the added security throughout Castle Roseanne, was.

"Yeah. And Robin, too," Morgan admitted. As if to accentuate Morgan's words, Yuelle emerged from her customary hiding place inside Morgan's hood.

Predictably, Virion recognized the small silver butterfly. His face shone with unspoken questions, but at least for the time being, he had been rendered entirely speechless.

"Hey… uh… could I get a little help here?" Please?" Morgan pleaded, glancing up at her disconcerted captor.

That snapped Virion out of his stupor. "Of course," he apologized smoothly, shaking his head so that his long, silvery-blue locks rippled gracefully behind him. "Maurice, please set this young lady down beside me. I would speak with her now," he said, indicating a nearby, empty chair.

"You know her?" the guard grumbled.

"I certainly do," Virion said. "This is the youngest daughter of Robin, the famed tactician of Ylisse."

The guard's eyes went wide with horror, and he obeyed in a hurry, setting Morgan down as gently as he could.

Duke Virion promptly seized the chains and wrapped them around the back of the chair, pinning Morgan in place.

"Hey!"

"Do you have any idea how long your parents have been searching for you?" Virion said, eyeing Morgan sternly. "You're in deep, deep trouble, young lady." He nodded towards the guard. "Thank you, Maurice. You may leave us."

The guard chuckled, amused by Morgan's predicament, but he left without another word. Morgan then looked pleadingly to Lady Olivia for help, but no sympathy was forthcoming – though Olivia had not disguised her relief quite as well as her husband, she wore the same firm, disciplinary expression.

"I've already been home to see Mom and Dad," Morgan tried to explain.

"Have you, now?" Virion said skeptically. He rose and left, and no one spoke again until he returned a minute later with a letter clasped in hand. The wax upon the letter was imprinted with a sign all too familiar to Morgan: the mark of the exalt, and the symbol of the Ylissean royal family. "Let's see… mutual defense agreements… standing trade arrangements… current events in Ylisse… ah, here we are." The duke placed the lengthy letter before Morgan, inviting her to read it.

"Finally, Robin and I ask that you continue to keep an eye out for young Morgan," Morgan sullenly read aloud. "She has not been seen in Ylisse since our last correspondence, and though her sister claims she is well, we are growing ever more worried about her. Best regards, Exalt Chrom."

"Well?" Virion prompted. "What have you to say for yourself, Morgan?"

"This letter is several months old, isn't it?" Morgan asked, checking to see if the letter was dated. "I've been home for a few months now. I guess Dad and Uncle Chrom haven't had the chance to tell you yet."

"But you're here now," Olivia pointed out suspiciously. "How could you have returned to Valm so quickly?"

"Warp powder, stolen from her father's workshop," Virion guessed, and before Morgan could protest, he searched Morgan's sash, removing the small pouch of warp powder. The duke inspected the pouch briefly. Then, satisfied that he had confiscated the young tactician's only means of escape, he extracted a heavy wrought iron key from his pocket and released Morgan from her chains.

"Thanks," Morgan said grumpily, stretching out her sore arms.

"Think nothing of it. It is the least I can do, after your help in securing Captain Barkley and his brigands," Virion said offhandedly.

"You could let me go," Morgan said hopefully. "I wasn't stealing from you this time, honest! I just needed a safe place to warp to, and thought Roseanne would be less dangerous than some place in the wilderness."

"I would love to," Virion said, smiling wryly. "But I think I'd best check with your father, first. Will this warp powder allow me to send a messenger directly to Ylisstol?"

Morgan shook her head violently. "I need that warp powder to return home," she said.

"If you are telling the truth, I am certain your father will provide us with some when he returns my message," Virion said soothingly. "He may even choose to come and fetch you himself."

"He can't. He's out of warp powder, too," Morgan said. "He said he's making more soon, but it won't be ready for a few weeks at least."

"Then I'm afraid you'll have to remain here with me until then," Virion said apologetically. "Do not be put off by the beastly climate – your stay will be as comfortable as anything you have known."

Morgan knew the duke was not exaggerating, for she had seen the luxuries available to Valmese nobles. "Thank you, but…"

"Here," Olivia interrupted, placing an extra dinner setting in front of Morgan. "You look like you haven't had a proper meal in far too long, Morgan."

"I had a proper meal just this morning!" Morgan protested indignantly.

"After dinner, I'm sure Inigo would be glad to show you around the castle," Virion offered, ignoring Morgan's objections. He smiled at his son. "You remember Morgan, don't you? The two of you played together when we last visited Ylisstol. It has been a while, hasn't it? Nearly five years now, I'd say."

Young Inigo only blushed and hid himself behind his napkin.

Morgan blushed, too, as she remembered the duke's previous visit to Ylisstol. The duke's son had been impossibly shy, and during dinner, he had tried to hide himself in one of the more secluded corner of the banquet hall. Unfortunately, Morgan had been playing in that very same corner, and a castle of tomes had collapsed upon the unfortunate boy.

"Duke Virion, please listen. I'm sorry for dropping in uninvited like this, but I really can't stay for too long," Morgan apologized politely. "My friends and I are off to somewhere rather important."

"Your friends?" Virion frowned.

Morgan held up her hand, presenting her pearl ring to the duke. "I'm supposed to take this ring to the Mila Tree. Once I'm there, it'll allow me to call my companions to my side," she explained. "You remember my sister, Severa, don't you? And Owain?"

"Your sister and Owain have been missing for years," Olivia reminded.

"They were, but they returned to Ylisstol with me," Morgan said. "They're both with me now, along with a few of my other friends, including Princess Lucina herself. Sort of, anyways. They can tell you that I've been home, and that Mom and Dad know that I'm out here."

"You can bring them here?" Virion asked uncertainly. "Inside the castle?" He and Olivia exchanged worried looks while their son shrank further in his seat, disappearing beneath the dining table entirely.

"I can," Morgan nodded, before gesturing with her ring. "See?"

No one spoke as the rift began to form, and the palpable silence remained until the rift was finally complete. As Morgan had suspected, her companions had not retreated to the village in Water's Edge, but were waiting expectantly on the other side.

"Morgan? What's going on?" Severa asked, peering through the rift suspiciously when she saw that her younger sister was standing indoors. "Why's Duke Virion with you?"

At the sound of Virion's name, there came an odd, strangled noise from somewhere behind Severa. Then there was a muffled cry of protest and a loud rustle as the older Inigo seized Soleil and disappeared into the nearby bushes. Thankfully, distracted by the magical rift, neither Virion nor Olivia noticed.

"I was hoping to hide in Castle Roseanne until the warp powder wore off, but the duke's guards found me," Morgan admitted. "Could you and Lucina and Owain please tell him that Mom and Dad know I'm here, and ask him not to waste my warp powder checking in with them?"

Severa groaned in exasperation. "You said you had some place safe to warp to!"

"I did! How was I supposed to know that the guards would be checking that disused pantry every hour!?"

"How were you supposed to get from Roseanne to the Mila Tree all by yourself!?"

"It's not that far!"

"It's almost a week's march away in the snow!"

Morgan looked up at the windows, stricken. Sure enough, the snow was falling furiously outside. "Oh. Right."

Shaking her head in resignation, Severa stepped through the portal, accompanied by Owain and Lucina.

"You may as well come with us. We'll probably end up spending the night here, at the very least," Lucina called back through the rift. A moment later, Helios, Crescent, and Yashiro followed her through the rift. "Hello, Duke Virion."

Morgan closed the rift quickly, hoping to keep the duke from noticing the sound of Soleil struggling with her father in the bushes on the other side of the rift.

"Princess Lucina! It has been far too long," Virion said, recovering quickly from his surprise. "Is it true, then? Does Robin know about and approve of his daughter's latest escapade?"

Lucina nodded. "More or less," she said.

"And we're really, really, _really_ pressed for time," Morgan added urgently. "We can't stay for long."

"Nonsense!" Virion announced. "You must all join us for the dinner, at the very least." Then, before Morgan could stop him, he moved to the doorway and began calling for his servants.

"Cheer up," Severa suggested, gesturing towards the nearest window and the relentless snowfall outside. "You don't want to keep marching through that, do you? I'm sure the duke can lend us a few carts and horses."

"Are horses any good in this sort of weather?" Morgan asked doubtfully.

"Oxen, then. Whatever the duke thinks best. The Valmese know their winters well," Severa reasoned.

Unable to argue with her sister's logic, Morgan only reseated herself tiredly, nudging the iron chains beneath her chair in hopes of keeping them out of sight.


	6. Chapter 4: To a Foreign Land

**~ Chapter 4 ~**

 **To a Foreign Land**

Upon receiving Lucina's assurances, Duke Virion's demeanor changed immediately and drastically. After a hearty meal, Morgan and her friends found themselves situated in some of the most luxurious guest rooms they had ever seen.

Irked by the delay – but having only herself to blame for it – Morgan spent the better part of the night laying atop a pile of thick blankets, staring at the ceiling and wondering how Inigo and Soleil were faring on their own. Sleep did eventually claim her, and when she awoke the following morning, one of the castle guards was politely waiting by her door.

"Duke Virion awaits you in the courtyard," the guard explained.

"Oh. Thanks." Morgan packed her things hastily, then followed the guard to the courtyard. The rest of Morgan's companions were already arrived. The duke was there, too, and though there was no sign of Olivia or young Inigo, two others accompanied the duke. A kind-looking woman with cherry-pink hair was conversing quietly with Lucina, a reminiscent sparkle in her eyes. A stern, dark-haired Chon'sin man waited silently nearby, a brooding expression upon his face.

In the corner of the courtyard nearest to the duke and his retainers, an adult wyvern was slumbering loudly, leathery wings folded beneath its scaly form. Morgan approached the wyvern curiously, ignoring Yuelle's nervous fidgeting. The wyvern stirred, lazily looking upwards at the small, red-haired girl.

Morgan smiled, then began gently stroking the wyvern's scaly head. With her other hand, she reached into her bag for one of the wafers her mother had packed for her. "Here you go!"

The wyvern looked at Morgan disinterestedly, then laid her head back down and closed her eyes again.

"Hey! What do you think you're doing?"

Morgan spun to face Virion's dark-haired bodyguard. "Hello, Lon'qu!" she sang, hugging the slender man before he could react.

"W-what… hey!" Lon'qu protested. "Let go of me!"

"You aren't still scared of girls, are you?" Morgan teased. "How could you be? I heard you have a son, now."

"That's none of your business!" Lon'qu snarled.

Morgan laughed, but she did let go and back away to a respectful distance.

"Thank you," Lon'qu said stiffly. "I'm glad to see you are well, though you should not worry your parents so."

"I'll try," Morgan promised. "I can take care of myself, though."

Forcibly reminded of their last encounter, Lon'qu looked away, embarrassed. The proud swordsman had spent much of his life in Ferox, building his reputation one victory at a time. The thought of being bested by a child did not sit well with him at all. "You fight well. Your parents would be proud," he conceded reluctantly.

"I surprise you, that's all," Morgan said modestly, doing her best not to bruise the older swordsman's ego any further.

Their conversation came to an end there as Duke Virion approached them. "Ah! Good morning, Morgan," Virion said. "You said last night you were in a hurry. My dearest Olivia would prefer you stay for brunch, of course, but I thought you and your friends would prefer to leave sooner than that."

"We would, yes. Sorry," Morgan apologized.

"There's no need to apologize. I do hope you and your friends will stop by and visit before heading home, though," Virion invited. "To business, then. My men have packed all the provisions you'll need for your journey, including a fine breakfast for the road. They will see you safely to the shrine at the Mila Tree, and will accompany you back here afterwards."

"Thank you, but they should return here once we reach the Mila Tree," Morgan said, shaking her head. "We'll probably be there for a few days, at least, and we wouldn't want to keep them waiting out in the snow that long."

"Are you sure you can make the journey back alone?" Virion asked, concerned.

"I'll use warp powder to return to Ylisse, and use my ring to bring my friends with me," Morgan explained.

"Very well," Virion said, sighing briefly.

"But before we go, I have something of yours," Morgan added. She reached for her traveling bag, producing a sizable pouch of coins.

Virion stared at the pouch dubiously. "What is it?" he asked.

"It's the gold I pried from you last time we met," Morgan said.

"Then it was gold you earned fairly," Virion reasoned.

"Yeah, but I didn't really need it in the end," Morgan said. "You can have it back."

"Keep it," Virion urged. "It will help you and your friends on the road."

"We don't need it. We have plenty of coin with us," Morgan insisted, and when Virion still made no move for the money, Morgan pressed it firmly into the duke's reluctant hands. When she saw Virion's hesitant expression, another thought occurred to her. "Umm… have you really been ordering your men to spend extra time patrolling the castle ever since I broke in?"

"It seemed prudent," Virion said defensively, though he sounded uncertain.

"In that case, maybe you should share some of this gold with them," Morgan suggested meekly. "It would only be fair, considering how much trouble I've caused them. Although, at least one of them could use a few lessons on how not to mistreat any helpless little girls he happens to find wandering around the castle…"

"Helpless? You?" Virion asked, arching one eyebrow skeptically. He laughed. "Very well, then. I shall see what I can do. Good luck to you, young Morgan. And please, for your parents' sakes if not your own, see that you return home soon."

* * *

Despite the dreary weather, it took only two days for Duke Virion's men to escort Morgan and her friends to the Mila Tree. It was still a longer journey than Morgan had hoped for, but every time she broached the subject, her sister was quick to remind her that the Mila Tree was a three-day walk from Roseanne even while the roads were clear. By their second day on the road, Morgan had grudgingly come to terms with the delay.

One other concern hung over Morgan as they journeyed west. With the duke's men accompanying her around the clock, the young tactician did not dare open the way to Water's Edge for fear of accidentally exposing Inigo. If any of the duke's men were to recognize Inigo – or Soleil, who bore an unmistakable resemblance to her grandmother – their sluggish progress would be hampered even further.

Morgan knew that Inigo and Soleil would be safe enough in Water's Edge, but as their lazy jaunt across Valm wound on, she began to feel increasingly guilty for leaving two of their companions sequestered so far away.

Late the second evening, when the great Mila Tree came into view at last, Morgan breathed out a deep sigh of relief. The winding route they had taken to circumvent the clustered woodlands had placed them right beside the Vault of Many Ways. Morgan hopped up to the front most wagon, then tugged at the sleeve of the man leading their procession. "Thank you! This is close enough. We can make our own way from here," she said.

The older man, a grizzled, middle-aged merchant buried under at least four layers of clothing, frowned. "Are you sure?" he asked. Unaccustomed to taking orders from a teenaged girl, he glanced instead at Helios, who happened to be sitting close by. "The duke said we were to take you right up to the tree."

"I'm positive," Morgan insisted, giving Helios a pleading look.

"We'll be fine on our own from here on out," Helios readily agreed.

"If you say so," the old merchant said doubtfully.

Half an hour later, when the wagons were but a blip on the horizon, Morgan reopened the way to Water's Edge and stepped on through.

Though the sun had only just set in Valm, the skies over Water's Edge were already blanketed in stars. A small campfire was sizzling quietly and flickering in the soft breeze. Inigo, who had been sitting atop of a log, rose at once. "There you are," he said, sounding relieved. He kept his voice low so as to not disturb Soleil, who was curled up near the campfire, fast asleep.

"Hey. Sorry we were gone for so long," Morgan apologized.

"No worries," Inigo said. "Are we away from Roseanne?"

"We are," Morgan said. "But don't you want to see your parents?"

Inigo shuffled about uncomfortably. "What would I say to them?" he asked, sounding rather helpless. "It's been so long since I first left without a word."

Morgan frowned. She could surely sympathize with that sentiment, even if her situation had been entirely different.

Misreading Morgan's expression, Inigo hastened to explain himself. "Don't get me wrong," he said. "It's not that I don't wish to see them again… I really do want to see them, to tell them about everything I've seen, and to show them their granddaughter. It's just… odd."

"How so?"

"When we met for the first time, they loved me, and welcomed me as their son, but they didn't know me," Inigo tried to explain. "I loved them too, but they were different from the parents I remembered. It was hard for me to think of them as the same people, or even to think of them as my parents. That was with them being only a few years older than me. How much harder would it be now that I'm a decade older than them? Now that my own daughter is older than their real son?"

Morgan pondered that question for a long moment before answering. "I think they'd want to see you, anyways," she finally said.

"Probably," Inigo admitted. "I'll figure out what to say to them someday, I hope."

"Well, you have time to think it over," Morgan offered. "And once our work is finished, we can bring you and Soleil back home to Roseanne whenever."

Inigo nodded slowly. "Thanks," he said.

Morgan glanced down at Soleil, who remained fast asleep. "Do you two want to spend another night here in Water's Edge?" she asked Inigo. "We were hoping to make it through the gateway tonight, but I don't know if I'll be able to open the way to Water's Edge once we travel away from this world. We could wait until morning to set out, if you'd like."

"No need. We can leave now," Inigo said, before stooping down and nudging his daughter gently. "Soleil, it's time."

Soleil only muttered something incomprehensible.

"It's time to wake up," Inigo tried again, but Soleil still remained motionless. Inigo sighed. "Come on, Soleil. Morgan's here and waiting for us."

This time, Soleil sat up sleepily. She yawned, then looked about, smiling when she saw Morgan. "Hey, Morgan! Welcome back," she said warmly.

"We're nearly back at the gateway," Inigo explained. "Are you ready to go?"

Soleil shot her father a baleful look. "I'm still not talking to you," she informed him, speaking in a childishly singsong manner.

"Still?" Inigo asked, a faint smile upon his lips.

"Nope!" Soleil said, pouting. She then turned to face Morgan again. "I'm only talking to her," she declared.

"Me?" Morgan asked blankly.

"Yep! When are we leaving?"

"Whenever you're ready," Morgan replied.

"I'm always ready," Soleil boasted, seizing her pack and slinging it up around her shoulder. She then grabbed Morgan's hand, leaving the younger girl little choice but to follow, and the two of them started off for the portal, hand in hand. "Hurry up, Dad!" Soleil sang, despite her earlier claims of not speaking to her father.

Inigo chuckled softly. "Yes, dear. I'm coming," he said, before falling in line behind a thoroughly bewildered Morgan.

* * *

"Alright. We're here. You're up, Inigo," Severa said, when they were gathered around the cave opening.

"What? Me?" Inigo asked, startled.

"Or Soleil," Severa conceded. "Whichever of you remembers the way to the right gateway."

Inigo and Soleil exchanged worried looks.

Severa sighed.

"Don't worry, Sis. I've got a map," Morgan intervened quickly, holding up a piece of parchment.

"That's the map you bought from the Fireman before," Severa said, recognizing the map at once.

"Yep! This is the gate that brought us to Monolith," Morgan said, holding up the map and pointing out one of the crudely drawn gateways. She then pointed to a different gateway, one with a rough circle drawn around it. "And this is the one we're headed towards now."

Severa still seemed uncertain, but before she could object, Morgan drew her three lantern rings from her pouch, donning one and passing the other two to Crescent and Inigo. Inigo, noticing Soleil's curious look, promptly passed his ring along.

"This is really neat. Does it stay lit up forever?" Soleil marveled, holding the ring up over her head.

"It should," Morgan replied. Holding up her own ring in front of her, she eagerly set off, leading the way into the dark, winding tunnels. The tunnels were entirely deserted, and a scant two hours later, Morgan and her companions found themselves standing before a shifting, prismatic curtain of light.

"This is it," Inigo said softly.

"This looks the same as every other gateway in this place, including the last one we went through," Severa pointed out sourly.

"It does?" Soleil asked.

"Nay. The road to endless night was garbed in emerald flames, while this cerulean portal beckons us towards a different fate," Owain said. Even as he spoke, however, the gateway's color shifted, taking on a greenish hue.

"This is the one," Morgan cut in, speaking up quickly in hopes of forestalling another argument.

"Are you sure this will work?" Lucina asked, eyeing the gateway hesitantly. "We won't accidentally return sometime in the past or future, will we?" It was clear that Morgan's less-than-definitive explanation for Inigo's sudden aging was still bothering her.

"We shouldn't. It'll be easy enough to find out for sure," Morgan said. She made no move for the gateway, and instead reached into her pouch, retrieving a pair of ordinary hourglasses. She then stopped, standing perfectly still as she stared at the two hourglasses thoughtfully.

"What's the matter?" Severa asked nervously.

Surprisingly, it was Yashiro who answered. "We can't set an hourglass on the other side of the gateway without first passing through it," Yashiro reasoned.

Morgan blushed, embarrassed that she had overlooked the obvious. "Just… give me a moment. I'll think of something," she said.

"Why don't we just tie the hourglass to something and hold it through the gateway?" Crescent suggested, offering her bow to Morgan.

"I think the gateway will just pull the rest of your bow through. It might pull you through with it, too, if you don't let go," Soleil said. "Or maybe it'll pull you through either way."

"Yeah. It felt like something was tugging at us when we used one of the gateways to travel to Monolith," Severa agreed.

"The call of destiny," Owain said somberly. Severa only rolled her eyes.

"I have an idea," Inigo said. "Let me see those hourglasses, Morgan."

"What are you planning?" Morgan asked, though she passed the hourglasses over without waiting for an answer.

Inigo flipped the two over at the same time, setting one down on the ground. "I'll be right back," he said, and before anyone could stop him, he stepped through the gateway with the other hourglass in hand.

"Inigo, wait!" Owain called in vain.

"Dad!" Soleil pushed her way past Morgan and sprinted for the gateway, but before she could dive through it herself, Helios lunged towards her, throwing an arm around her waist and holding her back. "Let me go!"

Helios looked to Morgan doubtfully. Morgan only shook her head wordlessly, signaling for Helios to wait a bit longer.

"I said let go!"

Soleil kicked and thrashed, but to no avail. The passing seconds turned to minutes, and still Soleil continued struggling, until finally, Inigo returned through the gateway. He set his hourglass down beside the other.

"They're the same," Morgan observed cheerfully. "Time must be flowing normally once more."

"What were you thinking!?" Lucina scolded Inigo. Beside her, Severa looked too incensed for words, and could only glower furiously at the grey-haired man.

Inigo shrugged and smiled weakly. "I'm not sure, really. Time has made quite the fool of me, hasn't it?"

"B-but… but…" Severa sputtered indignantly.

"It's okay, it's okay," Morgan put in soothingly. "I was already told the gateway would be safe for us to use. I was just hoping to make sure of it before we all went on through."

"And now we're sure," Inigo said bracingly. "Onwards, then?"

"Onwards," Morgan agreed happily. When she saw that both her sister and Lucina looked ready to continue arguing, she hurried through the gateway, leaving them no choice but to follow.

* * *

Morgan emerged from the gateway to find herself standing atop a small ridge, about twenty feet above the forest ground below. Tall, conical trees sparsely covered in soft, needle-like leaves stretched as far as the eye could see in every direction, climbing and falling with the rolling hills, blanketed by the gentle snowfall. The sky above was nearly perfectly dark, punctuated only by the meekest slivers of starlight.

Severa, despite her complaining, was the first to join Morgan.

"Where are we?" Morgan asked in a soft whisper. The gloomy forest carried a distinctly oppressive aura, and for some reason, Morgan found that she wasn't comfortable speaking normally.

"I'm not really sure," Severa said. "Somewhere in Nohr, I think. These trees look kind of dead."

Inigo was the next to arrive, appearing just in time to overhear Severa's remark. "This used to be part of Nohr, but it's part of Yato, now. We're in the Cascade Forests, right where Soleil and I departed from." He inhaled deeply, enjoying the earthy scent of the forest around them as the rest of their friends came through the gateway as well, one after another.

"How did Lord Leo ever find this portal?" Severa asked, peering around the nondescript landscape.

"Lord Leo began researching old mysteries not long after you and Owain left," Inigo explained. "He especially liked studying phenomena caused by old magic: gateways to other worlds, the skies changing, ancient curses, things like that."

"If only I could have helped him," Owain lamented. "This world holds many mysteries waiting to be unraveled. I wonder if he ever found the answers he was searching for…"

"We can worry about that later," Severa insisted impatiently. "Where are we headed, Morgan?"

"We should find a library first," Morgan replied. "Since the stories about the Bifrost Staff made their way to Ylisse, the people of this world must know of it, too. I'm sure there's an old book somewhere that can tell us where to begin searching."

"Or if the staff has already been used," Yashiro cautioned.

"Or that," Morgan conceded.

"We could begin with Castle Yato," Inigo suggested. "Two years after the war came to an end, Lord Xander and Lord Ryoma worked together to build a small castle for Lord Corrin up in the Dragonspear Mountains. The city that rose around the castle became the capital of Yato. There was a public archive in the city – not as large as the one in the Nohrian capital, but their collection has likely grown larger since."

"Why don't we try visiting Nohr first, then?" Morgan asked.

"Because King Corrin kept the Bifrost Staff with him in Yato after the war's end," Inigo said. "It's as good a place to start searching as any, I think. Besides, Castle Yato is a lot closer to here than Castle Krakenburg."

"Castle Yato it is, then," Morgan agreed, and her eyes lit up as she began to imagine the sights that awaited them. At the same time, she was not entirely oblivious to the late hour. "Let's find some place to set up camp for tonight, first. Do you think we'll be safe here in the woods?"

"We should be safe enough. There's not much else in these parts," Inigo said. "Or at least there wasn't, however many years ago it was when we left."

"We should move away from the gateway, at least," Lucina pointed out. "That way, if the Countess's men are behind us, they're less likely to come across us while we're sleeping."

Morgan wasn't overly concerned about the Countess's henchmen, but Lucina's advice seemed prudent nonetheless. "Okay," Morgan agreed. She began looking about for any path through the woodlands that looked like it could lead to a clearing of some sort. "This way!" she declared a moment later, deciding to simply choose a direction at random.

* * *

A short while later, Morgan and her companions reached a small creek, only just too wide cross. There was more than enough room by the creek for them to pitch their tents, and before long, nearly all of them were slumbering peacefully.

Inigo – who, along with Yashiro, had volunteered to take the first watch – wandered aimlessly around the perimeter of their camp, seemingly lost to the world around him.

Yashiro studied Inigo curiously for some time. The grey-haired man was clearly more troubled than he was letting on to, but the two had not known each other for long, and Yashiro wasn't sure if there was anything he could say or do to help.

Instead, Yashiro decided to turn his attention to a more immediate problem. Out of the corner of his eye, he had noticed a flicker of movement from far end of their campsite. He knew there was no real danger, but it was worrisome nonetheless. "I'll be right back," he said to Inigo.

"Alright," Inigo said without looking up.

Yashiro quietly made his way across the camp, eyeing the surrounding thicket carefully as he went. Sure enough, there was a faint, unnatural glow coming from behind the trees. With a sigh, he brushed some of the boughs aside and pushed his way through. "Shouldn't you be asleep, too?"

Morgan looked up guiltily from her charts and brass instruments.

"My son shares your passion for reading. I have caught him reading by candlelight when he should have been asleep on numerous occasions," Yashiro explained. "Ordinarily, I would not object, but you need your rest, Morgan. We have a long and difficult road ahead of us."

"Longer still if we can't find our bearing," Morgan said, indicating her charts.

"That can wait until morning," Yashiro insisted.

"But these are star charts," Morgan pointed out. "They won't help us once it's light out."

"They are charts from our world, are they not? Are they of any use to us now?" Yashiro asked.

"Not really," Morgan admitted. "I was hoping to tell east from west, at least, but the stars of New Valla seem entirely different. I'll have to ask Sis whether the sun still rises in the east in this world."

"You can ask her tomorrow morning, then. Now get to bed, Morgan," Yashiro said patiently.

Morgan nodded reluctantly and began packing away her belongings. "Say, how old is your son, anyways?" she asked curiously.

"He'll be turning eight soon."

"Eight!?" Morgan's eyes widened with surprise.

Yashiro smiled when he saw Morgan's startled look. "I'm older than I appear," he explained. "Now come along."

Morgan followed obediently as Yashiro led her back towards her tent, but her thoughts went back to the Champions' Banquet, and Yashiro's words when he had introduced himself to her that night. "Umm… Yashiro? Back at the Champions' Banquet, you said we had met before then, right?"

"That's right."

"How?"

"Your parents and sisters were visiting my home country, and offered to help us with our troubles," Yashiro said. "You were there when I stopped by to speak with your father."

Though Yashiro's explanation was quite unspecific, it stirred an old memory in Morgan, one of a dusty old workshop that was definitely _not_ her father's, and a mysterious, slender violet-haired stranger, regally-clothed and bearing with him a fine paper box bound in golden silk ribbons.

"Tellius…" Morgan whispered.

"You remember?" Yashiro asked, surprised.

Morgan nodded numbly. "You brought my sister and me a box of sweets. They were gooey and stuffed with something pasty and sweet. Dad told me you were someone very important," she remembered aloud. Even as she spoke, she thought of all the stories she had been told of that distant land. She blanched as the truth hit her. "You were Begnion's emperor."

"I knew you'd figure it out sooner or later," Yashiro said, chuckling softly. "Even as a little girl, you were so incredibly bright."

Overwhelmed, Morgan hardly noticed the compliment. She could only gape at Yashiro, wondering just how far she had overstepped.

"Don't worry, Morgan. I have not been an emperor for many, many years," Yashiro said reassuringly. "I am here as your friend, and as someone who shares your concerns. Feel free to continue speaking with me as you would speak to any of your friends."

"But…" Morgan began to argue.

The sound of rustling bushes interrupted their conversation. The noise was loud and distinct, though it seemed distant, as if it were coming from somewhere quite far into the surrounding woods. Morgan immediately fell silent and began peering about suspiciously.

"The wind, perhaps," Yashiro offered, though he, too, seemed uneasy.

"Too loud to be the wind," Morgan disagreed softly. She drew her tome. "Wake the others."

"Are you certain?" Yashiro asked hesitantly. "Even if there's something out there, it's more likely to be a wild animal than anything dangerous."

"Wake the others," Morgan repeated herself stubbornly, and she started off in the direction of the noise.

Yashiro relented and started for the nearest tent. Before he could call out to whoever was sleeping inside, however, Inigo's voice rang out loudly, rendering his effort fruitless.

"We're under attack!"

Even before Inigo had finished shouting his warning, Yashiro had drawn and readied his tome. His gaze wandered to the nearby woods, where faintly visible silhouettes darted back and forth, weaving between the dense thicket. Yashiro cursed aloud, realizing that he could not risk using fire magic while their campsite was surrounded with trees. He returned his prized fire tome to his belt, reaching instead for a tome of wind magic. At his command, a violent gale surged forth, eliciting a strangled cry from one of the raiders.

Yashiro cautiously approached his fallen victim, hoping to see who or what he had struck. His magical gust had thrown the branches above into disarray, and the scant moonlight briefly illuminated a crimson, satirically grim mask lying atop the soft forest soil.

Then the forest seemed to explode with flickering vermillion light, and the scent of smoke began wafting about.

Yashiro looked up in alarm. When he saw the ravenous flames spreading through the dense greenery, a loud groan escaped his tightened lips. "What did you do, Morgan?"

* * *

"Uh oh," Morgan winced. Her first spell had made short work of her unwary victim, but the magically conjured flames were now dancing from tree to tree, spreading ominously along the swaying branches.

Yuelle leapt from Morgan's hood, then jabbed the young tactician painfully in the cheek.

"You could have reminded me sooner!" Morgan protested, as shrieks of terror rang out all around, nearly drowning her out altogether.

Yuelle began flapping agitatedly, a silent warning that Morgan understood with perfect clarity. The young tactician spun about to find a masked man bearing down upon her. The man was enormous, standing at nearly twice Morgan's height. He wore a fierce mask, one that seemed vaguely humanoid, but twisted with a grotesquely fanged smile. Beside the mask, the man wore only a pair of worn cloth breeches and tattered boots, leaving most of his large, muscular frame exposed.

Far from being intimidated, Morgan cast her tome aside before reaching into her coat for a small pouch, which she flung deftly into her attacker's face.

The masked man howled in surprise as sand sprayed out from Morgan's pouch. He dropped his heavy, spiked club and began rubbing frantically at his face with both hands.

Morgan reflexively backed away from her foe, reaching for another tome. She glanced briefly at her father's tome – one bound in soft, golden cloth – before brandishing it at her struggling opponent. A fierce bolt of lightning burst forth, remaining a focused beam until it struck its mark.

The masked man twisted and writhed as the magical lightning coursed through him. His mask slipped aside, and he slumped to the ground, teeth chattering. Unfortunately, a few stray bolts had leapt into the nearby bushes, igniting yet another fire.

"Not again," Morgan sighed, bracing herself for another well-deserved poke from Yuelle. "Ow!" she complained, before reaching for her traveling pouch, searching for something with which to douse the flames.

* * *

Only a short distance away, Yashiro had retreated into the center of the camp, where he found Inigo waiting. The two barely acknowledged each other, for they were both too busy scanning their surroundings, searching not only for their attackers, but for a potential escape.

"How many?" Yashiro asked tersely.

"I'm not certain," Inigo admitted. "There were three back there. One bolted after I cut down his friends."

"Dad!" Soleil cried, emerging from her tent. "What's going on?" Though her eyes were wide and alert, she had not taken the time to change and was still dressed in her nightclothes.

Inigo opened his mouth to answer, but a flicker of movement behind a nearby tree interrupted him. He leapt at Soleil protectively, shoving her behind him. His sword darted upwards, deflecting an odd, silvery projectile before it could hit either him or his daughter.

"Get your sword, Soleil," Inigo ordered. He charged towards the tree, but Yashiro struck first. Another magical gale shot forth, knocking the tree over and crushing the wiry man who had been concealed behind it.

"Inigo, do you know who our attackers are?" Yashiro asked uneasily as Soleil disappeared back into her tent.

Inigo grimaced. "Hoshidans, perhaps," he guessed, indicating the fallen projectile – a polished steel disc with four razor-sharp, curved barbs. "That's a shuriken, the traditional weapon of the shinobi."

"Shinobi?"

"Soldiers and mercenaries trained in stealth and reconnaissance," Inigo explained. "They were commonly employed by the eastern kingdoms, especially Hoshido. The two men I battled earlier looked to be kijin – savage warriors who favor the club, and who fight with the strength of demons… allegedly, anyways."

"I see," Yashiro said, looking around calculatingly. He spotted another of their opponents immediately, who was indeed carrying a heavy club of some sort. The man was also bare-chested, and wore a mask similar to the one that Yashiro had stumbled across earlier.

The masked warrior snarled and barreled towards Yashiro, only to be thrown aside by a forceful burst of wind. Inigo leapt forward, impaling the fallen kijin before he could recover.

"They may also have an onmyouji with them," Inigo said, wiping his sword clean and readying it again with brutal efficiency.

"Onmyouji?" Yashiro asked.

"Spell casters from the eastern kingdoms. Their magic involves using enchanted scrolls to conjure mystical spirits," Inigo said, gesturing at the sizzling flames, which continued to spread.

"Actually, I think Morgan may be responsible for the fire," Yashiro guessed, remembering the tome Morgan had been carrying earlier.

"Then hopefully she can put it out after the battle," Inigo said grimly, for the flames seemed to be spreading farther with each passing second.

"Hopefully," Yashiro echoed tiredly.

Just then, another pair of kijin leapt into their midst. They seemed panicked at first, as if they had been trying to flee, but upon seeing Inigo and Yashiro, they raised their heavy clubs.

"Who are you? Why are you attacking us!?" Inigo demanded, readying his sword.

"Leave your weapons and flee!" one of the two kijin growled.

"My sword?" Inigo asked incredulously. He glanced briefly at his sword. It was a fine weapon of Nohrian make, similar to the blades used in Ylisse, but hardly unique and not especially valuable.

"Drop it!" the second kijin growled. "And the tome!" he added, gesturing emphatically at Yashiro.

Inigo and Yashiro exchanged stunned looks, but before either could respond, they were interrupted by Soleil's sudden return.

Still in her nightclothes, Soleil crashed through her tent flap, stumbling only slightly as she charged the two kijin, sword in hand. "Surprise!" she sang, darting forward and tearing a deep gash in one of her opponents' chests. The wounded kijin crumpled to the ground, a shocked expression upon his face.

The second kijin reacted quickly, bringing his club to bear. His wild swing connected, knocking Soleil to the ground.

"Soleil!" Inigo cried, racing at his daughter's attacker.

"Stand clear!"

Inigo only barely found the presence of mind to step aside, allowing Yashiro's spell to soar past and dispatch the offending kijin.

"Don't worry, Dad. I'm okay," Soleil said, climbing back to her feet. She was still smiling, to her father's relief, but her smile seemed strained. "Umm… why are the Hoshidans attacking us?"

"I'm not sure," Inigo admitted. "They might not even be Hoshidans."

"He looks Hoshidan to me," Soleil said, kicking one of the fallen kijin, who grunted painfully.

"What exactly is going on here!?"

Inigo, Soleil, and Yashiro all turned to find Severa stomping towards them. She had taken the time to pull on her padded armor, but hadn't bothered straightening it, and thus looked uncharacteristically disheveled. Owain was following close behind her – like Soleil, he was still dressed in his nightclothes. Lucina, too, had emerged from her tent, wide alert, Falchion in hand.

Inigo simply pointed towards one of the fallen kijin. Severa looked down at the fallen warrior in surprise. "Hoshidan soldiers? Here?"

Before anyone could answer, several startled cries rang out. Everyone turned towards the other side of the encampment just in time to see a fast-moving figure intercept another quartet of kijin.

* * *

Unlike Soleil, there was no smile upon Helios's face as he raced to meet his opponents. There was little emotion in his expression at all, only a look of purest concentration as he began to measure his adversaries. Like Soleil and Owain, he hadn't taken the time to dress, and wore only his breeches and sword belt.

The kijin hesitated when they saw the slender, half-dressed man approaching them, twin swords readied. "Kensei?" one of them asked aloud.

Unsure of what that word meant, Helios ignored the exclamation altogether and pressed forth, launching into an elegant, conservative attack routine, minimizing his forward momentum so that he could break away on a whim if necessary.

Though they had the advantage in numbers, the kijin seemed strangely fearful of their lone, unimpressive opponent. Rather than fighting back, their own movements seemed equally defensive, but far less measured, allowing Helios's blades to weave through effortlessly.

Finally, one of the kijin dared to strike, and leapt forward with a howl, swinging his club overhead. Helios quickly stepped away, moving out of reach, then shuffled to the side as he heard a soft fluttering behind him.

A gleaming arrow shot past Helios, catching the attacking kijin in the chest. Blinded by the sudden flash, the remaining three kijin could not see Crescent crouching just outside of the tent she and Helios shared.

The dark-haired woman hadn't taken the time to dress properly, either, and had simply draped Helios's traveling cloak over her shoulders before taking up her bow. A second, third, and fourth arrow shot out in quick succession. Two more of the kijin fell, and the last arrow shot past into the woods, striking yet another attacker who had thought himself safely concealed behind a particularly thick bush.

As he heard his allies fall around him, the last of the kijin turned to flee, but had gone only a few steps before he felt the sting of Helios's swords slapping against his back. "I yield!" he cried desperately.

Helios hardly paused as he twirled one of his blades, reversing his grip before punching out with the hilt. The unfortunate kijin flinched as he was struck, then collapsed to the ground, out cold.

* * *

"There you are," Morgan whispered delightedly, as she finally found a particular staff tucked deep at the bottom of her pouch. She drew the staff forth, marveling briefly at the fine sapphires embedded into the staff's tip. She then looked up at the nearly lightless sky, hoping that there were clouds drifting above them – thick, dense clouds, hopefully, that could drown the flames around them before the wildfire spiraled out of control.

"I yield!"

Upon hearing the desperate plea, Morgan jolted and sat upright. Then, realizing that there could still be more enemies lurking around her, she immediately ducked back down and peeked through the leaves instead, watching as Helios knocked out the fleeing man. "Nice work," she said admiringly. Her expression became a frown as she noticed the fallen red mask, identical to the one her earlier attacker had worn.

She was still pondering the significance of those odd masks nearly thirty seconds later, when Yuelle began fidgeting again. "Hey, stop that!" Morgan protested, before realizing why Yuelle had been clamoring for her attention: the bush she was hiding in had caught aflame. Morgan scrambled away from the bush with a yelp. "Alright, alright! I'm hurrying!" she said, as she jabbed the base of her staff into the ground.

"Hey! You there!"

At the sound of a voice shouting out from somewhere terrifyingly close by, Morgan felt as if her heart had just leapt up into her throat. She twirled around, nearly tripping over her own feet, and shakily drew Alondite from its sheath.

The dark-haired youth who had been standing behind Morgan backed away, his eyes wide. He stumbled over a branch and fell backwards, landing on his rump. "Whoa! Hold on!" he protested. He held up an exotic stringed instrument protectively, shielding his face.

The clumsy youth seemed younger than the rest of the raiders – a few years older than Soleil, perhaps – and he looked rather frail, as if he hadn't seen much in the way of battle before. Still, Morgan knew all too well how deceiving appearances could be.

"Back off," Morgan demanded, brandishing her sword menacingly.

"Alright! Backing off!" the dark-haired youth said agreeably, and he scooted several feet backward with his hands. "Say, aren't you a tad young to be swinging around a sword like that? Can you even swing it properly? It looks kind of heavy."

With a scowl, Morgan slashed Alondite forward, calling forth a powerful shockwave. The dark-haired youth screamed as the tree beside him promptly disintegrated, scattering splinters in every direction.

"Quiet!" Morgan hissed, scanning the surrounding area frantically for any more of the masked raiders.

"Yes ma'am! Shutting up, right now," the dark-haired youth stammered.

When at last she was satisfied that they were still alone, Morgan turned and glared at the stranger. "Who are you? Why are you and your friends attacking us?" she demanded.

"I'm… umm… I'm Sagi," the dark-haired youth said, eyeing Morgan's sword nervously. "And I'm not friends with these brigands. I don't even know them!"

"I see. You just happened to show up at our camp at the exact same time," Morgan suggested sarcastically.

"Yes, exactly!" Sagi said, beaming until he understood Morgan's true meaning. He blanched. "I mean, no! Look, I heard them stumbling about, and I thought they had found me, so I hid. Then they went on past me, and it looked like they were tracking someone else through the woods, so I followed them. That's all, I swear!" He said all this very quickly, as if he were afraid of Morgan growing impatient with him.

"Why did you follow them?"

"I don't know," Sagi admitted. "They looked like trouble, and I wanted to help, I guess."

"To help?" Morgan frowned, staring at Sagi's curious instrument. "Is that a weapon?"

"Is what a weapon?" Sagi asked blankly. He looked down at the instrument in his hands. "This? Of course not. Haven't you ever seen a sanshin before?"

"Sanshin?"

"You know, for playing music with?" As if to prove his point, Sagi drew a small, rounded bamboo plate and rubbed it gently across one of the instrument's strings, playing a measured note.

"Quiet!" Morgan scolded again, and Sagi immediately stopped playing to look around fearfully. "How were you planning to help anyone with _that_?"

"I… I have a rod with me, too," Sagi said, so quietly that Morgan could barely hear him over the crackling fire. "Just in case anyone's hurt, you know?"

Morgan groaned. She could only assume that the rod Sagi spoke of was something akin to one of her staves. Unfortunately, they had more pressing concerns than any potential injuries. "Okay. Just stay quiet and don't move," she instructed.

"But what if…"

Ignoring Sagi, Morgan turned back to her staff. She knelt down beside it, placing both hands firmly over it just below the tip, and closed her eyes. Before long, she could sense her staff calling out to her as well.

When she heard the pattering sound of raindrops against the thick forest canopy, Morgan knew her magic had done its work. "There," she said, sighing in relief.

Sagi looked up in confusion. Then, as he realized it had begun raining, he found himself staring wordlessly at Morgan, a shocked look slowly spreading across his face.

"The rain will grow heavier and take care of the fire," Morgan said wearily. "I'm going to check on my friends. You'd better come with me, Sagi."

Sagi looked around nervously. "I don't even know who you are!" he protested meekly.

"Oh. Right." Morgan immediately thought of a dozen possible names she could use, but caught herself just before she blurted one out, remembering just in time how her penchant for using false names had recently gotten her into trouble. "I'm Morgan, and this is Ellie," Morgan said, gesturing at Yuelle as she perched herself upon Morgan's shoulder.

If anything, that introduction left Sagi even more unnerved. He did fall in line behind Morgan as she started back towards the camp, but he stared wordlessly at Yuelle the entire way.


	7. Chapter 5: Far Dawn

**~ Chapter 5 ~**

 **Far Dawn**

"Morgan!"

At the sound of her sister's voice, Morgan smiled sheepishly, uncertain of whether she was about to receive a lecture or a hug. "Hey, Sis."

Severa didn't seem entirely sure what she wanted to do, either. She moved up to stand beside Morgan, then looked the younger girl over carefully. "Are you alright?" she asked.

"Yep! How's everyone else holding up?" Morgan asked brightly.

"Soleil's hurt, but not too badly," Severa replied. "Everyone else seems fine. Well, except for the Hoshidans. We tied up a few of them, and several more ran away, but at least…"

"Hoshidans?" Sagi blurted, surprised. "What Hoshidans?"

Severa frowned, taking note of the curious dark-haired youth for the first time. "Morgan, who's this?"

"Who, him?" Morgan asked, glancing casually over her shoulder at Sagi. An impish smile crossed her lips. "Just another prisoner for us to interrogate."

"What!?" Sagi gasped.

"Just kidding," Morgan giggled.

A look of relief flickered across Sagi's face. Then he scowled at Morgan.

"His name's Sagi. He says he's here to help us," Morgan explained, ignoring Sagi's unamused glower. "I think he's telling the truth. He doesn't seem like he'd make much of a bandit, anyways."

"Oh, thanks a lot!" Sagi sputtered indignantly.

"You're from Hoshido, too, aren't you?" Severa asked, eyeing Sagi speculatively. "Do you know who these thugs are?"

Sagi frowned. "You mean the marauders? They're not from Hoshido. Neither am I, for that matter," he said.

"You aren't?" Severa asked.

"Nope," Sagi said. "Well, maybe. I'm Yatoan, through and through, but I guess most of us have Hoshidan blood running through our veins – and Nohrian blood, too, for that matter."

Severa mulled the words over, then stepped over to one of the masked men who Morgan had knocked out earlier, nudging him sharply with her boot. "What about them? Where are they from?" Severa questioned.

The prone kijin groaned, but remained still.

"Not Hoshido, obviously. They're marauders," Sagi replied matter-of-factly, as if calling them marauders was meant to explain everything.

"Marauders? Like bandits?" Morgan asked, puzzled.

Sagi gave her a strange look. "No, I mean marauders. They've been everywhere of late, scrounging for weapons, tools, and gold to fuel their conquests back at home," he said. "What are you and your friends doing on the road if you've never heard of marauders?"

Morgan looked pleadingly to her sister for help, but Severa only shrugged helplessly.

Thankfully, Sagi wasn't waiting for an answer. "If I had to guess, these fellows probably came from Hakumeishima," he continued.

"That's… south of the mainland, right?" Severa asked carefully, doing her best to recall the few dusty books she had cracked open during her stay in Nohr.

Sagi nodded. "These marauders are mostly kijin and shinobi. They should be converging upon Yato for the Melee. Hakumeishima is just far enough west that it would make sense for their marauders to wrap around the mountains through Nohr."

Morgan frowned thoughtfully. She wasn't sure what kijin or shinobi were, or what the melee Sagi had mentioned was, but she knew better than to ask; judging from Sagi's tone, she was clearly expected to know of them already. She was still struggling to find the right way to word her questions when the rest of her companions caught up to her and Severa.

"I think we've tied up the last of them," Inigo announced, sparing Sagi only a brief glance. "Morgan, do you have any staves with you? Owain said you might have brought a few along." He prodded Soleil forward.

"Oh, that's right! Sis said you were hurt, Soleil," Morgan remembered. She began fumbling through her pouch as Soleil blushed and looked away.

"I'm not hurt _that_ badly!" Soleil interrupted hastily. "You can save your magic, Morgan."

"You don't want Morgan to tend to you?" Inigo asked mildly, prompting Severa to glare at him as Soleil wavered indecisively.

"Well…"

"Don't worry, Soleil. I brought plenty of healing magic," Morgan said, oblivious to her sister's warning look. "Just give me a moment to find a…"

"Here, let me try," Sagi interrupted. He hefted a fancy, polished wooden rod adorned with paper talismans and decorative runes. He brandished the rod, causing both it and Soleil to glow momentarily. "How's that?"

"Better, I guess. Thanks," Soleil said reluctantly.

"Who's next? Anyone else need to be patched up?" Sagi asked eagerly. He glanced at each of the others in turn, but his jaw dropped when he spotted Helios, whose swords were still drawn. "A kensei? Armed with Nohrian swords?"

Helios shot Morgan a questioning look.

"This is Sagi. He's here to help," Morgan explained quickly.

"I see," Helios said. He sheathed his swords. "I'm Helios."

Following Helios's lead, the others quickly introduced themselves as well.

"Sagi, what's a kensei?" Helios asked curiously.

Sagi looked at Helios strangely. Thankfully, before he could say anything, Inigo spoke up.

"We hail from one of the smaller islands in the west. Most of our people know very little of eastern culture," Inigo explained hastily. He turned to Helios. "Some of the swordsmen from the eastern kingdoms train to fight while wearing little to no armor. They prefer to rely on their discipline and mastery of their weapon instead. These swordsmen are known as samurai. The most accomplished of them are known as kensei. Some of Hoshido's greatest kings were kensei."

"Kensei are renowned for wielding both of their weapons at once," Sagi added. His eyes remained fixated upon Helios's twin weapons. "Though they typically prefer the katana and the wakizashi…"

"Curved swords favored by the Hoshidans," Inigo clarified, when he noticed Helios's puzzled look. "A katana is a bit longer than the typical longsword, while a wakizashi is shorter. Samurai typically carry both and use them interchangeably."

Helios looked down wistfully at his sheathed swords. The swords from his homeland possessed curved blades, too, and were far more graceful, to his thinking. Unfortunately, they had also been forged from inferior steel and reinforced heavily by magic. Once the enchantments had begun wearing thin, he had been left with no choice but to replace his old swords with the rigid, Ylissean weapons he carried now. "I don't suppose there's somewhere nearby where we could buy a pair of these swords, is there?" he asked hopefully.

"You folks really are new around here, aren't you?" Sagi laughed grimly. "These marauders aren't just preying on travelers for fun, you know. Even if they were, unarmed farmers would make for far easier victims, don't you think?"

"They were after our weapons," Yashiro said, remembering the words of their enemy who had spoken earlier.

Sagi nodded somberly. "There isn't much call for weapons around here anymore, save by the royal armies of Hoshido, Nohr, and Yato. Most weapon and armor smiths sell directly to the armies now. The marauders scrounge for whatever equipment they can find, hoping to fuel their own wars away from the mainland," he said. He then furrowed his brow thoughtfully. "What are you folks doing here, anyways? You don't look to be scavenging for equipment yourselves."

"We're not," Morgan said quickly. She gave Inigo a sharp look, hoping her more knowledgeable friend could provide them with an explanation.

Inigo caught on right away. "We're just here to see the world," he explained. "Our homeland has been at peace for quite some time. I used to live in Nohr some time ago, so I offered to show my friends around the mainland. We're headed towards Yato right now."

"Why stray from the Thread?" Sagi asked.

"That's my fault," Morgan spoke up quickly, though she wasn't entirely sure what Sagi meant. "These forests looked so pretty, and I wanted to take a better look. We ended up wandering farther than we meant to."

"These forests? Pretty?" Sagi said dubiously.

"We were planning to spend the night here," Inigo said, looking about ruefully.

"The wilderness can be treacherous in the months leading up to the Melee," Sagi said sympathetically.

"Then what are you doing out here all alone?" Morgan asked.

Sagi grinned. "Same as you, really. I've spent most of my life living in one city or another, and thought it was about time for a change. So, I went through every book I could find about living off the land, packed my bags and took to the road… and here I am!"

"That's it?" Severa asked, flabbergasted. "You read a handful of books and thought that would be enough?"

"Pretty much. To be honest, it _has_ been a bit rough. Lately, I've been thinking about calling it quits and heading it back to Yato," Sagi said. He looked to Inigo hopefully. "Say, if you folks are headed the same way, why don't we travel together?"

Inigo subtly glanced Morgan's way, then turned and adopted a distant look, staring vacantly off into the woods as if he were considering Sagi's request.

Morgan hesitated. She wasn't quite sure how long she and her friends could keep up their charade with Sagi traveling beside them. Sagi seemed quite knowledgeable, though. In the end, the temptation of having a native guide was too much for her to resist. She quietly shuffled to the side and out of Sagi's sight, then nodded slowly.

"Sure," Inigo agreed.

"Great!" Sagi cheered. "Just give me a few minutes to fetch the rest of my stuff and move my tent here."

"Here?" Inigo asked, frowning. He looked around to the bodies strewn throughout their camp, peering through the thin veil of smoke blanketing the area.

"Yeah. Then, in the morning, we can set out for the Foamtide Bridge together," Sagi said.

"The what?" Morgan asked blankly.

"The Foamtide Bridge," Sagi replied. "Down by where the Thread meets the Vale River. I'll be right back!"

No one spoke as Sagi disappeared into the densely-packed trees, or for nearly a full minute afterward. Finally, when Severa was certain that their newest companion was out of earshot, she turned to Morgan. "Morgan, what's the Thread?"

"How should I know?" Morgan asked.

"Inigo? Soleil?" Severa said, rounding on the pair.

"I've never heard of it," Inigo admitted.

"Me neither," Soleil said.

"Great," Severa grumbled.

"We'll find out soon enough," Morgan said, shrugging. "Come on. We'd better start putting the tents away."

"Right now?" Owain asked. "I thought we weren't setting out until morning."

"There could be more enemies around," Lucina answered before Morgan could. "The sooner we get away from these woods and out into the open, the better. That way, at least we can see our enemies coming before they're upon us."

"But what about them?" Crescent asked, indicating the beaten and bound marauders.

"Leave them," Lucina suggested. "We don't have nearly enough people to watch so many prisoners. It may take a day or two, but they'll free themselves eventually. When they do, I doubt they're foolish enough to give chase." As she spoke, she gripped Falchion's hilt tightly and glared at the nearest of the captives, her eyes narrowing dangerously.

Lucina's reasoning was sound, but Morgan wasn't entirely comfortable with the idea of abandoning their captives in the middle of nowhere, either to perish or to break free and prey upon others. Unfortunately, they didn't seem to have much choice. "Good enough, I guess," Morgan agreed reluctantly.

* * *

"Okay, time to go," Sagi announced, panicking slightly as he burst into the clearing. He froze when he saw that the tents had already been cleared away, and that the others were standing around, waiting for him.

"Alright. Lead the way," Inigo agreed.

"Oh. Uh. Right," Sagi stammered. He stayed still for a moment longer, then started off in a seemingly random direction. Before any of the others could begin to follow, however, he stopped again, took a look around, then began heading in a different direction, following the creek downstream.

"Wonderful," Severa muttered under her breath.

Ignoring her sister, Morgan scrambled to catch up to Sagi. "So, why the sudden rush?" she asked.

"Quiet!" Sagi hissed, before lowering his voice to a mere whisper. "I think I heard more marauders moving about. Staying the night didn't seem like such a great idea anymore."

"We figured as much," Morgan nodded. She glanced at Lucina. "We could try to draw them out," she suggested hesitantly. "If we leave them unchecked, who knows what sort of trouble they could cause?"

"We don't know for sure that they're around," Lucina said, looking about warily.

"The sands continue to flow. Time is of utmost importance," Owain added.

Sagi stared at Owain curiously. "Uh… did I just step into a Nestrian play?" he asked, a dumbfounded look upon his face.

"Nay! No play can capture the…" Owain began, but his voice faltered when Severa grasped his wrist sharply. "Err…"

"Don't mind him. Owain writes plays for our friends back at home. He's really quite good at it!" Morgan said brightly.

"Oh." Sagi furrowed his brow thoughtfully. "What was he saying about time being important? Are you in a hurry or something?"

"Umm… well, we might be running a bit late now, after that trip through the forest," Morgan said, shooting Inigo an apologetic look.

"Don't worry, Morgan," Inigo said comfortingly. "If we don't dawdle _too_ long, I'm sure we'll be home before anyone misses us."

"I wouldn't worry too much about the marauders," Sagi added. "They tend to stay clear of small towns and villages, and especially of the Thread. More often than not, they end up fighting amongst themselves. We can just report them to the first patrol we see. The Thread's crawling with patrols right now – Hoshidan, Nohrian, and Yatoan alike."

"Would the patrols be able to do anything about them?" Lucina asked. In her experience, the few bandits that did occasionally surface in Ylisse were always quick to disappear when they were reported to the Shepherds.

Sagi shrugged. "Maybe?" he said hopefully, before quickly changing the subject. "Forget the marauders. The Thread's not far from here, and trust me, there's nothing in the world like watching the sunrise over the Foamtide Bridge." He glanced at Inigo. "You've seen the Foamtide Bridge before, haven't you?"

"I… yeah, of course," Inigo lied, fumbling slightly over the words. "Once, many years ago."

"Then I bet you're looking forward to seeing it again, too," Sagi said, oblivious. Without another word, he began leading the way, slowing only to draw forth his curious stringed instrument from before. As they continued following the creek downstream, which soon fed into a wide river, Sagi continued plucking away at the instrument, playing a lighthearted tune.

Morgan quickly found herself nodding along to the simple melody. "Say, you're pretty good with that… sanshin, was it?"

"Why, thank you," Sagi said, beaming. "Do you play any instruments, Morgan?"

"Not really. When I was little, my mom tried to teach me how to play a harp, but I wasn't very good at it," Morgan said. "Uh… you do know what a harp is, right?"

"Of course. What sort of musician do you take me for?" Sagi asked indignantly.

Morgan shrugged helplessly. "My best friend once tried to teach me to sing, too, but I couldn't carry a tune at all. She was much better at singing than I'd ever be," she said.

"Was?" Sagi noted curiously. "Did something happen to her? Your friend, I mean."

Morgan instinctively glanced over her shoulder towards Yuelle, who remained nestled inside her hood. "It's… complicated," she said evasively.

Sagi looked at Morgan quizzically for a moment, and for a moment, his airy demeanor faded. Then he smiled and shrugged. "Ah. I see," he said. "Well, if you want to give it another try later, I can show you how to play my sanshin."

"No thanks," Morgan declined with a mock shudder. "I'll settle for listening."

"Suit yourself," Sagi laughed. "Maybe I'll sing you a song when we reach Moonbright. I stopped by one of the inns there once. Made fifty gold that night."

"You sing songs for money?" Soleil asked, appearing abruptly at Morgan's side.

"I have to pay for food somehow, don't I?" Sagi said. "I read up on hunting before I left home, and brought a yumi with me, but I ran out of arrows without actually hitting anything. Unless you count trees. I hit lots of those. It was probably for the best; even had I caught something, I wouldn't have known what to do with it."

Morgan wasn't entirely sure what a yumi was, but it sounded like some sort of bow. After a moment's thought, she decided it better not to ask. "Hunting's not as easy as it looks, is it?" she asked sympathetically.

"It really isn't," Sagi agreed shamelessly. He looked up towards the horizon. "Whew. Sun's coming up, and so's the bridge." He quickened his pace slightly, and shortly after the sun peeked over the eastern mountains, Morgan understood why Sagi was in such a hurry.

There was an ordinary cobblestone road ahead of them, notable only in that it was surprisingly even and wide. It led straight up to the side of the river, where it met with what could only be the Foamtide Bridge. The bridge was unlike any sculpture Morgan had ever seen before. It was wide enough for ten broad-shouldered adults to cross standing side by side, and stretched nearly a hundred feet long, as the river had widened considerably. For the most part, the bridge looked to have been sculpted from a single, massive slab of the purest white marble. The walkway itself was perfectly even, but the rails and the bridge's underside were covered in intricate, wavelike patterns. Streaks of shimmering blue accentuated the decorative patterns, as if someone had embedded slivers of polished sapphire into the stone. A plethora of tiny, clear gemstones crested the waves, forming a pristine layer of sparkling seafoam.

Morgan stared at the bridge, fully entranced by the way the glistening sunlight swirled through the crystalline inlays. After what felt like an eternity, she finally tore herself away from the sight, only to find that each of her friends – save for Sagi – were equally transfixed upon the scene.

"How did they ever build such a thing?" Morgan muttered, for the bridge seemed too perfect to have been carved by human hands.

"Oh, it wasn't built. It was summoned," Sagi explained. "You've heard stories of the dragon veins, have you not?"

Morgan had not heard any such stories, but she nodded anyways, beckoning for Sagi to continue.

"This bridge was created by Queen Kana the First of Yato," Sagi went on. "According to the stories, the bridge that was built here along with the Thread collapsed during a particularly vicious storm. Queen Kana was only a little girl at the time, a child princess accompanying her royal father and mother when they came to oversee the repairs. She sensed a dragon vein here, and before her parents could stop her, she managed to call forth this bridge."

"Call from where?" Morgan frowned.

Sagi shrugged. "Out of nowhere, I guess. The scholars have spent centuries trying to understand how dragon veins work, to no avail. It really doesn't matter much, I suppose; at the rate we're going, in a few more generations, there won't be anyone left to find or use dragon veins."

Feeling more lost than ever, Morgan made a mental note to ask her sister about the dragon veins later. "Well, wherever it came from, it's beautiful," she said admiringly. "I've never seen anything quite like it."

"You won't find a bridge like it anywhere else," Sagi said proudly.

Morgan glanced back towards the rest of her companions, who were still staring at the wondrous bridge. "Everyone ready?" she prompted impatiently.

Only Helios seemed to be listening. He nodded slightly, then gave Crescent a light nudge. The two of them resumed walking, which quickly roused the rest of her companions from their stupor. Together, the group slowly made their way across the bridge, Morgan and Sagi leading the way.

At the far end of the bridge, Morgan paused to check on her friends. To her surprise, her sister, Owain, and Inigo had fallen behind again. All three of them wore the same thoughtful expression.

Then Severa noticed Morgan looking her way, and quickened her pace, dragging the others along with her. "Sorry, Morgan," she apologized when she caught up at last.

"No worries," Morgan said reassuringly, though her mind was bursting with more questions than ever.

* * *

When they finally finished crossing the Foamtide Bridge, Morgan and her companions resumed their brisk pace until they spotted another group of travelers in the distance. Though they were still at least half a mile away, there was no mistaking the many gilded flags and banners streaming in the wind, all of which bore the same design: a symmetrical violet sigil of a four-pointed star with four hooks – two on each the left and right side, curving inwards towards the points – and a small hole in the center, set against matted block cloth with golden borders.

"Nohrians," Severa explained to Morgan, recognizing the symbol at once.

Sagi frowned. "Not just any Nohrians. That's way too many flags for an ordinary patrol. I think it's a royal escort. One of the Nohrian princes must be making his way towards Yato for the Melee," he guessed.

"Inigo, we should hurry and tell them about the marauders," Morgan urged, deciding it best to maintain the illusion that Inigo was leading their party.

"Very well," Inigo agreed.

They redoubled their pace, quickly catching up to the travelers ahead, and saw that Sagi's guess was only partially corrected. Most of the Nohrian travelers were mounted, and nearly all of them were heavily armored, and thus traveling at a leisurely pace. Their fabulous black plate armor was trimmed in gold, making their stations quite apparent. However, their leader was no prince, but a young woman with shoulder length, flaxen hair bound into a tight ponytail. Her armor was more decorated than even her companions', and despite her youth, there was a commanding presence about her, for she carried herself with confidence and pride. When she saw that her entourage was being followed, she turned and presented herself in a kind, yet dignified manner. "Salutations," she greeted.

"Good morning," Morgan returned the greeting pleasantly.

Sagi elbowed Morgan sharply. "You are addressing a princess!" he hissed angrily, before turning back to face the Nohrian female. He dipped low, bowing courteously, but before he could say anything, the princess spoke up.

"There's no need for that," the princess scolded Sagi harshly. She looked at Morgan, who was rubbing her sore side, annoyed. "Are you alright, miss?" she asked sympathetically.

"I'm fine. Sagi's just a bit of a jerk," Morgan said, giving Sagi a dirty look. "I'm Morgan, by the way."

The Nohrian woman chuckled softly. "I see," she said. "Well met, Morgan. My name's Claire."

Sagi's eyes went as wide as dinner plates. "You're Princess Claire?" he gasped.

Claire nodded. "Princess Claire of Nohr, in the line of King Xander the First, seventh in the line of succession," she recited. "And you?"

"I… I'm Sagi, milady," Sagi said, flustered. "Seventh, you say? I thought…"

"Seventh," Claire repeated firmly.

"But…"

"You should not believe everything you hear, Sagi. Rumors are often only that – rumors," she warned. She looked up and surveyed the rest of Morgan's companions, taking note of their unusual dress. "You are not from Nohr," she recognized. "Are you headed to the Scarlet Museum? For the Melee?"

"I'm afraid not, milady," Inigo replied. "My friends and I are simply here for a bit of sightseeing."

"Sightseeing? Well, if you're headed to Yato, there are certainly plenty of sights to see," Claire said. "I wouldn't stray too far from the Thread, though, if I were you. The marauders are proving to be quite a blight on the land. Sometimes, I wonder whether the Melee is really worth the price we pay."

"It really isn't," Sagi commented. "Ah, well. We've learned our lesson, at least. Are you headed for…"

"You've learned your lesson?" Claire interrupted him. "What do you mean by that?"

"Nothing, really. Just that we ran into a few of the marauders last night," Sagi said nonchalantly.

"Where?" Claire demanded.

"Up in the Cascade Forest," Sagi replied. "Don't worry. We beat the lot of them silly."

"We?" Morgan muttered under her breath.

Sagi blushed, but said nothing, doing his best to ignore Morgan. "There were more skulking about in the forest, but they didn't trouble us after that," he went on.

Claire pressed her lips together tightly. "Cyrus," she called out after a moment's thought, without turning around.

A thin, wiry man stepped forth. He was of about average height, though he seemed much smaller due to his unimposing figure. His brown hair was cropped short and slicked upward, giving him a rough, unsophisticated look. Unlike many of his companions, he wore no armor, opting for a fine, silver cloak and tailored black tunic instead. "Yes, milady?" he said in a smooth drawl.

"Take half of our patrol and check out the Cascade Forest. Take care of the marauders in the area," Claire instructed.

"Half!?" A slender, voluptuous woman detached herself from the rest of the group. She was taller than Cyrus, and her long, silver hair draped past her shapely legs, nearly all the way to her ankles. Like Cyrus, she wore no armor, and was instead clad in a bizarrely revealing robe sewn from clingy, semitransparent black cloth. "Milady, our soldiers are here for your protection, first and foremost!"

"Is that not why you are here, Shade?" Claire replied.

"As much as I hate to agree with my lovely compatriot, Shade's right. Half may be a tad overkill, anyways," Cyrus remarked casually. He rested one hand upon the hilt of his sword, then drew an ornate dagger in the other hand, twirling it expertly. "Why don't I just duck over on my own and…"

"No," Shade interrupted firmly.

"Oh, don't be such a killjoy. It'll be fun," Cyrus grinned. "Don't worry. I'll be on my best behavior."

"That's why we're worried," Claire retorted dryly, without smiling.

Cyrus only chuckled, then beckoned towards a handful of the other soldiers – significantly fewer than half, Morgan noticed – then started strolling away, this time back to the west towards Foamtide Bridge.

"We'll be waiting for you in Castle Yato," Claire called after her departing soldiers.

"Yep," Cyrus acknowledged in a shockingly irreverent tone, waving casually over his shoulder without looking back.

"If you're late, I'll be very displeased with you," Claire warned.

"Naturally."

Claire sighed. "If you haven't returned by the end of the week, I'll have to send Shade to fetch you, and I doubt she'll be gentle," she said. "Do I make myself clear?"

"Crystal," Cyrus said, though he was now far enough that his voice was only barely audible.

"Umm… Lady Claire, are you sure they'll be alright on their own?" Morgan asked tentatively.

"Oh, I'm sure," Claire said wryly. "Though I don't know what shape the marauders will be in when Cyrus has had his fun. Charming as he is, I didn't choose Cyrus as my retainer for his character."

"Perhaps you should value one's character a bit more highly, milady," Shade said, a hint of disapproval in her tone.

"Perhaps," Claire agreed absently. "Morgan, are you and your friends headed to Yato?" she asked.

"To Moonbright, milady, and then onwards to Castle Yato," Sagi answered.

"In that case, you are welcome to travel beside us," Claire offered. "We'll be passing through Moonbright."

Sagi looked to be on the verge of protest, but Morgan nodded to Inigo, who spoke up before Sagi could. "That would be wonderful, milady," Inigo agreed.

* * *

Late that evening, a full hour after dark, Claire brought the procession to a halt beside a large, clear lake. Her soldiers immediately set to work pitching tents beside the road. "You can pitch your tents beside ours. We'll keep a lookout throughout the night," Claire offered kindly.

Though she hadn't slept the night before, Morgan was in no hurry to retire for the night. Instead, she made her way over to the shore and perched herself atop a particularly smooth boulder. She sat there quietly, watching as Helios and Crescent sparred with a pair of wooden training poles, though she wasn't left alone for long.

"Shouldn't you be in bed, Morgan? Yashiro said you were up late last night," Lucina said, placing a gentle hand upon Morgan's shoulder.

"Soon," Morgan promised innocently.

Lucina knew Morgan far too well to fall for that, however, and only smiled knowingly. She knelt down beside Morgan, joining her in watching Helios and Crescent at their play. "You know, we haven't trained together at all since your return," Lucina said. "Sev says you've gotten pretty good with the sword yourself."

"Sis said that? Really?" Morgan asked, surprised.

"Reluctantly, yes," Lucina laughed. "I'm sure she'd be happier if you were to stick to reading books, but we're a bit past that point by now, I think."

"Just a bit," Morgan agreed with an embarrassed smile.

"I still remember when you came to me, begging me to teach you how to wield a sword," Lucina continued, a wistful gleam in her eyes. "You were so small back then. I told you that our training poles would be too heavy for you, but you didn't care."

"Ooh. Yeah, those poles were a bit heavier than I thought they'd be," Morgan admitted. "It was good practice, though. This sword is even heavier." She drew Alondite from its sheath, laying the elegant silver weapon across her lap.

Lucina eyed Alondite carefully, admiring its unblemished silver blade, for weapons that could rival her own legendary Falchion were a rare sight indeed.

"Has Sis told you anything else about New Valla?" Morgan asked.

"A bit, but nothing important. She seems to be as lost as I am. Owain and Inigo, too," Lucina said. "What about you? Have you learned anything from Princess Claire?"

"Not really," Morgan said. "There isn't much I can ask without giving us away. I think this road is the thread that Sagi keeps mentioning, though I don't know why he and the princess keep calling it that."

"I wouldn't worry too much about it," Lucina said gently. "I'm sure once we reach Yato and that archive that Inigo mentioned, we'll find the answers we need. Unless we lose you amidst the piles of books first."

"Hey!"

Lucina smiled to show she was only teasing. "Time for bed, Morgan," she said, rising. "Come along, now."

Morgan probably would've continued protesting if it hadn't been for Yuelle tugging at her hood. "Alright," she conceded, before reluctantly following Lucina back towards the campsite.


	8. Chapter 6: Unfamiliar Streets

**~ Chapter 6 ~**

 **Unfamiliar Streets**

The next two days passed rather uneventfully, to Morgan's supreme disappointment. She found that there was little she could glean from her conversations with Sagi and Claire. Sagi had been talkative and cheerful before, but seemed strangely nervous around the Nohrians. In contrast, Claire always appeared confident and collected. There was an authoritative air about her, and Morgan was afraid that one wrong remark would immediately expose her and her friends.

The rest of Claire's entourage barely spoke at all. Claire's remaining retainer, Shade, was perhaps the least talkative of the lot; when Morgan tried to initiate a conversation with the imposing woman, she received only a sharp, scrutinizing look for her efforts.

The Thread, too, proved notable only in how utterly unremarkable it remained. It had obviously been built with great care. Even as it began to rise along the mountain slopes, it remained surprisingly level with as little winding and turning as possible. The elevation was constantly changing, of course, but somehow, the road always found the smoothest trails to follow. The cobblestones had been arduously cut, allowing for a comfortable ride aboard the Nohrian carts.

It wasn't until late the second night, long after the sun had set, that the Thread finally approached something of interest. A collection of modest, inconspicuous homes rested atop a flat plateau. Puffs of smoke trailed upwards from chimneys, and the faint, vermillion glow of lit fireplaces shimmered gently in the night. Clean, paved roads ran around and throughout the town. There were a few larger buildings constructed from grey bricks, but none of the architecture seemed particularly unique or exotic.

"Is this Moonbright?" Morgan asked, carefully hiding her disappointment.

"Sure is," Sagi said cheerfully. "It's nice, isn't it? It's quite like Castle Yato, actually. Only, you know, without the castle. And smaller. And without walls surrounding it."

"Oh, is _that_ all?" Morgan said, rolling her eyes.

Claire, who was riding close by, chuckled softly, and Sagi fell silent immediately. "Castle Yato is still several hours away," the Nohrian princess explained. "We'll spend the night here." Then – without waiting for an answer, for she hardly expected one – she climbed down from her horse and began leading the way down one of the streets.

The procession of Nohrian soldiers eventually came to a stop in front of a large and brightly-lit inn. A wooden sign hung by the doorway, engraved with a simple picture of a log fireplace. A smaller sign labeled with the inn's name, "The Wanderer's Respite," rested just over the doorway.

While Claire and her soldiers stopped to dismount, Sagi hardly paused at all. "Come on, Morgan. You're going to love this place," he promised, reaching for the doorway. Shade proved faster, though, wordlessly pushing her way past Sagi to be the first inside. "Geez. Someone's in a hurry," Sagi remarked, before following Shade inside.

Morgan wasn't overly interested in the inn, which looked much like any other inn or tavern she had seen before. Instead, she decided to wait for Claire, who soon handed her horse's reins over to one of her soldiers.

Claire didn't seem to be in any hurry to step inside, either. Morgan was just about to ask what the princess was waiting for when Shade reappeared, flashing a brief signal towards Claire with her right hand.

"What was that signal for?" Morgan asked, when Claire finally started towards the doorway. "Are you worried that someone inside would want to attack you or your soldiers?"

"Observant, aren't you?" Claire smiled ruefully. "Not me, but Shade. Ever since Prince Hiroki disappeared, Shade's been seeing daggers in every shadow."

"I see," Morgan said. Claire's nonchalant manner was a bit disconcerting, but not overly surprising; nothing really seemed to bother the Nohrian princess much.

"Oh, that's right. You and your friends are new around here. You've probably never heard of Prince Hiroki, have you?" Claire said, misreading Morgan's expression. "Prince Hiroki is one of Hoshido's younger princes."

"How young?" Morgan asked.

"Nineteen, the same age as me," Claire said. She then shrugged. "That's what I've heard, anyways. We've never met before, and he's not very well known."

"Not very well known?" Morgan echoed. "I thought you said he was a prince."

"He is," Claire nodded. "But Hoshido, like Nohr, has so many princes and princesses that only a small handful are actually known to the public. Prince Hiroki was far enough removed from the line of succession that most of his family didn't even know he existed – at least until it was discovered that he could use dragon veins."

At Claire's mention of dragon veins, Morgan thought Sagi's words when they were crossing the Foamtide Bridge. Unfortunately, Morgan hadn't found the time to ask Severa about dragon veins, and still had no idea what they were.

Before Morgan could decide how best to prod Claire for more answers, she felt someone tugging at her wrist. She turned to find Soleil grasping her arm, eyes sparkling. "Let me buy you a drink, Morgan," Soleil offered brightly.

"Umm… I don't know…" Morgan stalled, forcibly reminded of a particularly painful memory. One night, several years ago when she and Yuelle had only just left Ylisse, she had been felling particularly lonely and homesick. Somehow, she had wound up inside a Feroxi tavern. There, she cajoled the bartender into selling her a mug of ale, for no better reason than the fact that her parents would never have allowed it. Not only had the ale tasted fouler than anything she had ever imagined, it had left her mind a discombobulated mess of doubts and regrets.

"Don't worry! It'll be fun!" Soleil assured, before simply dragging the younger girl along with her towards the bar.

* * *

Severa stared in horror, her jaw agape, as Morgan and Soleil made their way across the inn's common room towards the bar. Then, she instinctively turned to glower at Inigo, as if it were somehow his fault.

"What is it?" Inigo asked, startled.

"What does your daughter think she's doing?" Severa hissed dangerously.

Confused, Inigo looked towards Soleil, then did a double take. "Umm… buying your sister a drink, I suppose," he guessed, chuckling uneasily. "That's odd. About a year ago, Soleil finally talked me into letting her try a sip of my wine. She hated it."

"Even now, the prickly tang of bygone years does not appear to be to her liking," Owain pointed out. At his words, both Severa and Inigo turned to watch as Soleil quaffed the amber contents of a thimble-sized glass cup, only to make a face afterwards. There were five more tiny drinking glasses in front of her, two of which were already empty. Morgan, who didn't seem too interested in trying any of the drinks herself, simply cheered Soleil on, a delighted expression upon her face.

Severa sighed. "We should probably put a stop to this," she said. Inigo nodded in agreement, and the two of them started towards the counter. They were too late, though; after her fourth shot, Soleil looked as if she had had enough of the charade. Ignoring the remaining drinks, she took Morgan by the hand and led her towards the other end of the common room. There, a musician had just begun playing a song from atop a small, wooden stage.

"Is everything alright, Sev?"

Severa turned to see Lucina approaching, accompanied by Helios and Yashiro. Each of them carried a polished wooden tray laden with food.

"Yeah," Severa said reluctantly, glancing worriedly over towards Morgan.

"C'mon. Cress is holding a table for us. We were lucky to find one large enough; this place is packed," Helios said.

"The crowd seems amiable enough, at least," Yashiro mused. "If we were in Ferox, we would've seen at least three fights by now."

"We've only been inside for five minutes," Severa pointed out.

"They'd usually spare a minute or two for drinking," Yashiro replied dryly.

* * *

Morgan and Soleil hurried towards the stage, but by the time they arrived, all of the nearby tables were taken. Several of the patrons who hadn't found seats were leaning or sitting against the nearby wall instead. Shade was there, too; it looked as if she had secured a table for Claire first before taking up her watchful post, for the princess was comfortably seated alone at a nearby table.

Sagi was seated on the wooden floor beside Shade, looking terribly small and uncomfortable as he tried not to look at the intimidating, statuesque woman beside him. When he saw Morgan and Soleil approaching, he beckoned towards them, grateful for the distraction. "Over here," he mouthed, not wanting to disrupt the stage musician's performance.

Morgan plopped herself down beside Sagi without complaint, then began studying the stage musician. "Her sanshin isn't as pretty as yours," she noted quietly, for the middle-aged female was playing a weathered and worn instrument.

"Cheaper, too, I imagine," Sagi remarked.

"Really? How much did yours cost you?" Soleil asked. Her words were slurred, and her gaze seemed to wander to the side as she spoke.

"You really don't want to know," Sagi murmured, looking away, embarrassed.

"Because you don't remember," Morgan teased.

Sagi's cheeks flushed a deep red color, and Soleil began giggling loudly. Sagi gave her an odd look. "How much did you have to drink, exactly?" he asked, though Morgan suspected Sagi was only trying to change the subject.

The diversion proved effective, however, as Soleil pretended not to hear Sagi, turning to watch as the musician finished her song. Several of the spectators clapped as the musician stowed her instrument, collected the coins lying in the wooden bowl at her feet, then vacated the stage.

"She's finished already?" Morgan asked, disappointed.

"Most of the musicians who play here aren't professionals," Sagi explained. "We play a song or two, then leave the stage so someone else can take a turn."

"Oh! That's perfect!" Morgan said. "You can play next, then!"

"What? Me?" Sagi asked, taken aback by Morgan's suggestion.

"You said you'd play us something when we got here, remember?" Morgan reminded.

"Yeah! Come on, play us a song!" Soleil said excitedly.

"Come on, Sagi! The crowd's waiting!" Morgan insisted. Then, she glanced slyly over to where Claire was seated. "Even Princess Claire is listening," she added coyly.

Sagi followed Morgan's gaze over to the Nohrian princess, a thoughtful look upon his face. Then he sighed. "Oh, all right," he agreed reluctantly. He reached into his pack for his own sanshin, then made his way up onto the stage, seating himself and closing his eyes.

* * *

 _Blessed by the winds of time,_

 _Three sovereigns bound to fate's rhyme,_

 _Destined to reign over sky and land,_

 _For truth and peace, they made their stand,_

 _From their hopes and dreams, unity they wrought,_

 _But for that a terrible price was paid,_

 _In valor, honor, and truth's name they fought,_

 _And to rest, their own desires were laid._

 _..._

 _The first to fade, the king of the broken heart,_

 _The promise of renewal he nobly declined, and from his beloved did he part,_

 _Through many long years did he endure,_

 _But the festering within him had no cure,_

 _In the end, to the wilds did he soar,_

 _To disappear like true love lost, to pass forevermore._

 _..._

 _The winds of time continued to flow,_

 _Even for a king they would not slow,_

 _Greatness and happiness lain across a scale,_

 _A forlorn ending for a worthy tale._

 _..._

 _The second to break, the king of the broken soul,_

 _His own hopes and dreams he surrendered in toll,_

 _Solely for his kingdom did he continue to exist,_

 _His own whims and pleasures he carelessly dismissed,_

 _Until at last he could no longer withstand,_

 _And so he was found with a blade in his heart, its hilt cupped within his own hand._

 _..._

 _The winds of time continued to flow,_

 _Even for a king they would not slow,_

 _Greatness and happiness lain across a scale,_

 _A forlorn ending for a worthy tale._

 _..._

 _The third to fall, the king of the broken mind,_

 _A man renowned to be as wise as he was kind,_

 _Cursed to watch as the world passed him by,_

 _Winds wearing at his thoughts until he thought he could fly,_

 _The crevasse sang out with a voice unheard,_

 _And he found that to madness, death he preferred._

 _..._

 _The winds of time continued to flow,_

 _Even for a king, they would not slow,_

 _Greatness and happiness lain across a scale,_

 _A forlorn ending for a worthy tale._

 _..._

 _Cursed by the winds of time,_

 _Three sovereigns bound to fate's rhyme,_

 _Destined to reign over sky and land,_

 _Great men who left upon the world their brand._

 _..._

 _Three kings who devoted to us their all,_

 _Who each willingly became little more than a thrall,_

 _Three martyrs who forfeited heart, soul, and mind,_

 _Who to their own needs were helplessly blind._

 _..._

 _Without end shall the winds of time flow,_

 _And for no man nor god shall they slow,_

 _Greatness and happiness lain across a scale,_

 _A forlorn ending for each worthy tale._

* * *

Morgan couldn't help but be impressed. She knew a true artist when she saw one; though Sagi's mellow voice was quite unremarkable, it accentuated the harmonic tune, and each note had been played to perfection. It wasn't until the crowd burst into applause that Morgan realized Sagi was finished.

Sagi bowed his head politely, smiling only slightly and showing considerable aplomb as he gathered the coins resting in the small wooden bowl. He then moved to rejoin Morgan and Soleil, careful to avoid meeting Shade's gaze.

"That was pretty good," Morgan said.

"Only _pretty_ good?" Sagi asked, feigning a hurt look.

"The song was a little bit sad, wasn't it? You should've played something happier instead," Morgan suggested.

Sagi groaned. "You should have said something before sending me up there, then," he grumbled.

Morgan laughed. "I'm just kidding, Sagi. You were very good," she said.

"My brother's a better singer, though," Soleil said. At least, that's what Morgan thought her tipsy friend was saying; by this point, Soleil's voice was little more than a murmur, and she seemed to be struggling to keep her eyes open.

"Umm… are you alright, Soleil?" Sagi asked, too worried to take offense.

"Mm… fine. Totally fine," Soleil replied sleepily.

"I'll bring her up to her room. She looks like she's about to collapse," Morgan commented.

"Am not!" Soleil insisted. In spite of her protests, she didn't resist when Morgan pulled her to her feet, and had to lean against the smaller girl's shoulder simply to keep from falling.

"Good luck," Sagi remarked, hopping to his feet as well. "See you tomorrow, Morgan."

"Good night," Morgan said, and she began trying to guide Soleil towards the staircase. She stopped when she noticed Sagi moving to sit across from Claire. For a brief moment, her curiosity clashed with her concern for Soleil – but only a brief moment. With an apologetic murmur, Morgan propped the half-conscious Soleil against the wall, then turned to listen in.

"That was quite impressive," Claire congratulated. "You're as good as any of Castle Krakenburg's court musicians."

"You flatter me, Princess. Classics are not so difficult to play," Sagi said modestly.

"Not so difficult to play, perhaps, but it's not often they're played well enough to stand out when everyone's heard them hundreds of times before," Claire replied.

"It can be a bit challenging at times," Sagi said nonchalantly, settling back in his sturdy wooden chair. "Makes it all the more worthwhile."

"Oh? Do you prefer working with older pieces, then?" Claire asked.

"Not necessarily," Sagi shrugged. "I've studied all sorts of music – particularly Hoshidan, as I favor the sanshin, but I've picked up a few Nohrian pieces over the years, too."

"Have you ever considered composing your own song?"

A strangely distant look came over Sagi. "I have, but writing music isn't quite like playing it," he said slowly. "It takes more than just practice, you know? It takes inspiration. Of course, my first attempt to see the world ended with me running headlong into a band of marauders…"

Claire smiled sympathetically, her surprisingly tender expression taking both Sagi and Morgan by surprise. "That's rather unfortunate. Perhaps you should wait for the Melee to end. Consider following the Thread more closely, too."

"Yeah, I've learned my lesson," Sagi said sheepishly. "I'd rather not make it so easy for my parents to find me, though. They weren't so understanding when they learned that I'd rather be a musician than join the family business."

"That seems rather selfish of you," Claire remarked.

"I knew you'd think that," Sagi said, laughing lightly.

"Well, you could return to Nohr with me if you'd like," Claire offered. "I know of many Nohrians who'd pay handsomely for your talents." Something in her expression didn't seem quite genuine; it was as if she was expecting Sagi to turn her down.

"I'll consider it," Sagi said, but, like Claire, his expression suggested otherwise. He reached into his pocket, retrieving a small pouch. He slid the pouch across the table to Claire, causing the coins within to jingle quietly. "I can't accept this. It's far too much for such a meager performance."

Claire made no move for the gold. "It was Shade's gift to you, not mine," she said.

"I doubt that," Sagi said, glancing at Shade. "Your retainer doesn't seem overly fond of me."

Claire laughed. "She doesn't dislike you, if that's what you're afraid of," she reassured. "Shade doesn't dislike anyone, really… well, anyone asides from Cyrus, I suppose." She slid the coins back across the table towards Sagi.

Sagi stared at Claire appraisingly as several seconds went by. Finally, he reached for the pouch. Rather than pocketing it, however, he undid the drawstring and drew a coin from it before flagging down the nearest waitress.

"What are you doing?" Claire asked curiously.

"Well, if you won't allow me to decline your gold, I'd say I owe you a drink at the very least," Sagi answered flippantly.

Claire narrowed her eyes at Sagi suspiciously. Then she smiled. "Is that really appropriate? I'm already betrothed, as I'm sure you are aware," she remarked.

"I've heard as much. Then again, I was recently warned not to believe everything I hear," Sagi said, smirking slightly.

To her credit, Claire laughed. "Fair enough," she conceded. "But in this case, the rumors hold true. I am…"

"Betrothed to Prince Hiroki of Hoshido, I know," Sagi said. "I doubt he'd take offense at me buying you a single drink. The last I heard of him, he's gone missing. Just upped and vanished without a trace."

"That's all I've heard, too," Claire admitted.

"Well, if he's to be your husband, shouldn't you have some idea of where he's gone?" Sagi pressed.

Claire shrugged dismissively. "Prince Hiroki and I have never met… not formally, anyways," she explained.

"You were planning to marry someone you've never met? To spend the rest of your life with him?" Sagi asked. "What if he turns out to be, I don't know, a pompous buffoon who can't even dress himself?"

"Then I'll hope his retainers are as diligent as Shade," Claire said. "There's no need to feign ignorance, Sagi. You just regaled me with the Ballad of the Three Kings, after all. You understand perfectly the burden of royal blood."

Sagi grimaced, and his expression became one of deep resignation. "Indeed, I do," he said. "My apologies, Princess. It's been a pleasure speaking with you, but I'm quite tired, and our journey isn't ended yet."

If Claire noticed Sagi's change in demeanor, she did not comment on it. "Good night, Sagi."

Realizing that the conversation was at its end, Morgan scrambled to collect Soleil – who had somehow fallen asleep standing up – then hurried upstairs before anyone could notice her eavesdropping.

* * *

When Morgan awoke the following morning, she was rather disappointed to find that everyone else was still fast asleep. "Well. This is boring," she said, upon finding the inn's dining room entirely empty.

Yuelle fluttered her wings, causing a soft, whistling sound.

Morgan knew when she was being mocked. "Well, pardon me for needing _some_ sleep every now and then," she grumbled, eliciting another playful titter from her friend. "Come on, Ellie. Let's see what sort of food they serve around here for breakfast."

Now that it was light outside, Morgan had little trouble locating the nearest marketplace. Unfortunately, said marketplace was nearly deserted. The market stalls were all empty, and the street was clear, save for a man and a young girl. The man looked to be about Severa and Owain's age. His face was pleasantly wide and cleanly shaven, giving him a gentle, fatherly look, and his short, black hair was neatly cropped. The girl, on the other hand, seemed to be about the same age as Morgan. Her silvery hair was bound in a bushy ponytail and a pair of thick, orderly braids. She wore a vibrant red ribbon in her hair, too, which further exaggerated her childish features. The two of them appeared to be arguing rather heatedly.

"Look, Emma. This isn't working," the man said. He spoke patiently, but his voice seemed strained, as if he were growing tired of repeating himself. "Why don't we just head home and see if anyone's learned anything since we left?"

"Do you have any idea what sort of trouble we'd be in if we returned home emptyhanded?" the girl protested.

"No, I don't. Do you?"

"We'll be beheaded, then thrown onto a pyre to be burnt alive!"

"That seems a little bit drastic," Morgan said, dropping into the conversation uninvited.

"And rather impossible," the man added exasperatingly. "Please, Emma. You should know better than to believe all of the horror stories your fellow trainees told you."

"Well, what do you think will happen to us, then?" the girl demanded.

"I don't know, but if it makes you feel better, I'm fairly certain no one's going to be beheaded or burnt alive, let alone both," the man said tiredly.

"What's the matter? Can I help?" Morgan offered.

"I appreciate the offer, but I'm afraid…" the man began to say.

"You sure can," the girl said, stooping down to open a large leather case that was lying at her feet. The leather case seemed rather large for the girl, and was sewn into a decorated leather harness. The girl took out a large scroll of parchment and unrolled it. "Have you seen this man before?"

Morgan stared at the charcoal drawing, unsure of what to say. The illustrator must not have been particularly skilled, as the face depicted was quite plain and lacked any sort of identifying details, save for jarringly asymmetrical eyebrows that couldn't possibly have been drawn that way intentionally. "Uh… I don't think so," Morgan finally said. "Why? Who is he? And who are you?"

The girl withdrew the painting, crestfallen. "This is Prince Hiroki of Hoshido," she explained sadly. "I'm Emma, and this is my partner, Masaru. We're Prince Hiroki's retainers, only, our prince disappeared several weeks ago, and we haven't seen him since."

"We were escorting Prince Hiroki to Nestra to meet his fiancée," Masaru explained. "We woke up one morning to find him gone. He had been extremely excited and anxious all throughout our journey, so at first, we thought he had rushed on to Nestra without us. When we arrived, however, he was nowhere to be seen."

"Princess Claire said she'd try to wait for him, but also that she was expected in Castle Yato for the Melee," Emma said gloomily. "We decided to take the long way around the mountains and search for him on our way here, but there's been no sign of him at all."

"You tried searching for him on foot?" Morgan asked skeptically.

"Nothing quite that silly," Masaru laughed gently. "Emma here was one of Hoshido's most promising Pegasus knight trainees before being recruited by Prince Hiroki to serve as his retainer instead."

"I see," Morgan nodded, suddenly understanding why the girl's traveling bag resembled a saddlebag. "Well, Princess Claire is here, but I haven't seen your Prince Hiroki anywhere. Neither has she, as far as I know. Sorry."

"Oh, drat," Emma moaned. "When the king learns how useless we are, he's going to have us roasted and fed to wyverns."

"No, he isn't," Masaru sighed.

"Are you sure?" Emma asked hopefully.

"Definitely. Wyverns prefer their food raw," Morgan chimed in.

Emma's eyes went wide with horror.

"There aren't any wyverns in Castle Shirasagi, Emma," Masaru said wearily. He looked to Morgan. "Are you here with Princess Claire?"

"Sort of. Why?" Morgan asked.

"When you next see her, could you tell her that Emma and I haven't found Prince Hiroki yet, and that we're still looking for him?" Masaru requested.

"I can, but wouldn't you rather tell her yourselves? The inn we're staying at is only a few minutes from here," Morgan suggested.

Masaru mulled the thought over for a second, then shook his head. "Emma and I had best continue our search," he said.

"Alright. I'll pass your message on to the princess, then," Morgan agreed.

"Thank you," Masaru said, bowing politely before turning and leading Emma away.

Morgan watched the odd pair go, then started heading back towards the inn. "Well, that was odd," she said to Yuelle. "We still haven't found any food, either. I wonder if the inn's serving breakfast yet…"

* * *

Morgan returned to the inn to find the rest of her companions all awake. The dining hall was nearly as lively as it had been the evening before. The inn had indeed begun serving breakfast, and the tables were laden with platters of aromatic food, many of which Morgan didn't recognize.

"Is that oatmeal?" Morgan asked curiously, seating herself beside her sister and staring at a bowl of some white, soupy substance.

"Rice porridge," Owain, who was seated across from Severa, corrected.

Severa indicated several smaller dishes containing grilled fish, small, spongy blocks the color and consistency of scrambled eggs, and an array of vegetables – fresh, dried, and pickled. "The porridge is pretty plain," she explained. "Hoshidans often eat it with these sorts of side dishes for breakfast."

"Huh. Neat," Morgan said. She continued scanning the dining table, finding platters of breakfast fare that were commonplace in Ylisse – eggs, toasted bread, fruit preserves, and slices of salted pork. Both Severa and Owain had ignored most of the more exotic dishes. Feeling rather adventurous, Morgan did exactly the opposite, ignoring all the dishes she recognized and serving herself some of everything she didn't.

"Be careful," Owain warned. "The flavors of Hoshidan cuisine are as varied as they are peculiar."

Morgan took a careful bite from the yellow block she had chosen, guessing it to be some sort of omelet. Though it did taste like eggs, there was a distinct sweetness to it. "Very peculiar," she agreed aloud.

"Where've you been, Morgan?" Severa asked, a trace of worry in her voice. "When we didn't find you down here, we thought you were still asleep."

"Ellie and I were just taking a look around town," Morgan replied. "We ran into Prince Hiroki's retainers, then decided to come back here."

"Prince who?" Severa frowned.

"Prince Hiroki. Princess Claire's fiancé," Morgan replied. When she saw both Severa and Owain staring at her in bewilderment, Morgan began explaining what she had overheard the night before, as well as her conversation with Emma and Masaru.

"They've lost their prince? That can't be good," Severa said, chewing her lip thoughtfully. "But it's none of our business, really, unless he had the staff with him for some reason."

Upon sampling a particularly salty, pungent mash, Morgan made a face, then set her fork down. "That doesn't seem too likely. A staff that powerful is bound to draw attention," she guessed. "Either all the world knows of it and where it is, or it's been secretly hidden away somewhere and forgotten."

"Or someone's used it up," Severa reminded.

"Or that," Morgan conceded, reaching for the platter of sweetened eggs. "By the way, what's a dragon vein, Sis?"

"They're places where magical energies gather, or something. I'm not exactly sure," Severa said. "The dragons of this world had the power to draw upon dragon veins and cause all sorts of strange things to happen."

"Dragons, huh?" Morgan said wonderingly.

"The dragons were mostly gone by the time Owain, Inigo, and I came to this world," Severa continued. "The royal families of Nohr and Hoshido were said to be descended from the dragons, though. Since they had the blood of dragons running through their veins, they could make use of dragon veins, too."

"Really? But Sagi said that, sooner or later, there won't be anyone left who can use dragon veins anymore," Morgan said.

"The occult blood of the ancients must have diminished throughout the centuries," Owain suggested.

"I guess that makes sense," Morgan said. Having grown bored of pushing around the stranger tasting tidbits of food on her plate, she slid it aside, then hopped to her feet. "Well, I'd better go tell Princess Claire what Prince Hiroki's retainers said. See you two later!"

* * *

As it turned out, Princess Claire didn't have much to say about Morgan's message. She listened attentively, and seemed to recognize Emma and Masaru's names, but when Morgan's story was finished, all she had to say was, "Thank you."

"Aren't you worried about him?" Morgan asked, surprised.

"Why should I be?" Claire asked. When she saw Morgan's hesitant expression, a slight smirk crossed her lips. "You were eavesdropping on Sagi and me last night, weren't you?"

"Umm…" Morgan stalled, silently wondering if perhaps she had just gotten herself into trouble… again.

Claire began to laugh. "It's alright," she said. "As I told Sagi, I've never been formally introduced to Prince Hiroki. I will do as my family, country, and station require of me, but Prince Hiroki is hardly my responsibility, and I can hardly wed a man who remains missing."

"You don't really want to marry him, do you?" Morgan asked, though as soon as she finished speaking the words aloud, she grimaced, fearing she had overstepped.

"What I want or do not want is irrelevant," Claire answered serenely. "Are you and your friends ready to leave?"

"Just about, Princess," Morgan answered dutifully.

"Good. My men are readying the horses as we speak. We'll leave within the hour, arriving in Castle Yato just past midday," Claire said. "Go and gather your things, Morgan."

* * *

The road from Moonbright to Castle Yato continued sloping upwards as it wound through the droll, mountainous landscape. Though the sun continued beaming overhead, the air seemed to grow colder and colder. Morgan drew a thick blanket around herself as, one by one, her companions began searching for their packs for extra layers of clothing.

A few hours later, Castle Yato came into view. The city was ringed by tall, thick walls of grey stone bricks. Parapets lined the walls, but looked more aesthetic than functional, as they were almost entirely deserted. The road widened as it approached the city's gates, but otherwise remained an uninspiring cobblestone road. As Sagi had warned, the city behind the gates looked much like Moonbright, only larger.

Claire dismounted as they approached the wall, then turned to address Inigo. "Here we are. This is where we part ways, I imagine. You and your friends had best continue without us, Inigo; I will need to speak with these guards, and will likely be quite busy afterwards."

"Thank you, Princess," Inigo said, bowing his head gracefully. "Perhaps our paths will cross again soon."

"Almost certainly, should you and your friends decide to come watch the Melee," Claire agreed.

* * *

Less than an hour later, Morgan found herself precisely where she wanted to be: in an old, dusty, and thankfully public library, sitting on a soft cushion beside a short wooden table, sprawled over a book with piles of reading material laying around her.

It was wonderful, or would have been, if it hadn't been for one minor detail. Though Morgan did her best to ignore it, it continued grating on her nerves, and after half an hour, she simply couldn't bear it any longer. "Sagi, libraries are supposed to be quiet!" she hissed, closing her eyes in frustration.

Sitting at the next table, Sagi had the grace to stop plucking at his sanshin for a moment. "Are they?" he asked, sounding genuinely surprised. "Where'd you hear that?"

A low groan escaped Morgan's lips, and she buried her head in her book once more. Unfortunately, she knew little of the customs of Yato, and didn't dare argue the point any further.

"Besides, even if we _are_ supposed to be quiet, no one's here to overhear us," Sagi pointed out, before beginning to play another jaunty – and rather annoying – tune. It was technically true; the rest of their companions had scattered throughout the Yato Archive, and none of the archive's other patrons were even in the same wing of the building.

"I'm here," Morgan pointed out grumpily. "What are you doing here, anyways? You haven't touched a single book since we got here."

"Of course not. Books are boring," Sagi said, glancing disdainfully at the shelves around them.

"Then why not go visit the market? Or a tavern or something?" Morgan said.

"I've seen them all before," Sagi shrugged. "Are you almost done looking for… whatever you're looking for?"

Gnashing her teeth furiously, Morgan only barely suppressed the urge to chuck the book she was holding at Sagi's head.

A familiar voice came drifting by from around the corner. "Any luck, Morgan?"

Morgan looked up just in time to see her sister approaching, Owain in tow. "Nope," the young tactician replied glumly.

"What _are_ you looking for, anyways?" Sagi continued conversationally, barely acknowledging Severa and Owain.

"Something interesting to read," Morgan replied, just as she had the first five times Sagi had asked her that question.

"Won't find it here," Sagi sang, raising and lowering the pitch of his voice in line with the tune he was playing.

Morgan heaved a deep sigh. "What about you two?" she asked Severa and Owain. "Find anything interesting?"

"A king's horde of ancient grimoires, brimming with hollow, meaningless words," Owain answered sadly.

"What he said," Severa agreed. "Morgan, did you see that sign hanging outside, just beside the door? There's some sort of museum in the city, and it sounds like there's some sort of event being held there soon. Maybe we should take a look."

"The museum?" Sagi asked, his ears perking up. "Are we headed to the Scarlet Museum?"

"Maybe later. Why?" Morgan asked carefully.

"Why wait until later?" Sagi asked, hopping to his feet. "Come on, we can go see Raijinto!"

"Rai what?" Morgan asked blankly.

Severa and Owain recognized the name, however, stiffening. "Raijinto? The sword?" Severa blurted.

Sagi looked at her strangely. "Of course. What other Raijinto is there?" he said.

"What's it doing here?" Owain asked, his face white with shock.

"Where else would it be?" Sagi frowned suspiciously.

Severa and Owain exchanged confused looks, but remained silent.

Hoping to break the tension, Morgan decided to speak up. "Sounds neat. Just let me finish with these books, then we can head over and see this sword," she agreed. Reasoning that she wasn't about to find anything with Sagi hovering over her, and that she'd be better off coming back alone later, she began tidying the stacks of books while trying to memorize the titles of those she had not had a chance to look through yet. She stopped when she noticed a familiar title. "The Ballad of the Three Kings," she murmured curiously, her fingers tracing the embossed golden letters upon the tome's worn cover.

Severa, recognizing the look on her sister's face, seated herself across from Morgan, tugging at Owain, who sat down beside her.

Meanwhile, Morgan flipped the tome open and began to read. The lettering upon the pages was abnormally large. It was also handwritten, a common detail among older texts. Morgan quickly saw that the words were quite similar to Sagi's song from the night before, but they seemed to deviate slightly, with one particular stanza standing out from the others.

* * *

 _The first to fade, the king of the broken heart,_

 _The miraculous staff he nobly declined, and from his beloved did he part,_

 _Through many seasons did he endure,_

 _But the smoldering within him had no cure,_

 _In the end, to the wilds did he soar,_

 _To depart in pursuit of love, to pass forevermore._

* * *

"The miraculous staff," Morgan muttered aloud. She read the entire stanza again, then a third time. Unable to make any more sense of it, she finally slid it across the table to her startled sister. "Hey, Sis. Do you have any idea what this is about?"

"Probably not," Severa said, making a face. She accepted the book however, turning and nudging it to the side so that she and Owain could both read it. "No idea."

"'tis a tragic tale of heroism and sacrifice," Owain said. When he saw both Morgan and Severa staring at him expectantly, he only shrugged.

"What about the staff?" Morgan pointed out. "Could that be _the_ staff?"

"What staff?" Sagi asked curiously.

Severa ignored Sagi. "I suppose it could be," she admitted grudgingly. "But this story… poem? Whatever it is, it doesn't seem to go into much detail about anything."

"Do you know who they are? The people from the song?" Morgan asked, first looking to her sister, then to Owain. Both Severa and Owain only shook their heads.

"What people? What song?" Sagi asked, now visibly annoyed.

Morgan grinned sheepishly – she knew she was being petty, but she found it quite amusing to be the one frustrating Sagi, for a change.

Unfortunately, Severa lacked her younger sister's patience, and was now every bit as frustrated as Sagi was. "The people in this poem," she said, sliding the old tome towards Sagi.

"Hey, wait!" Morgan tried to protest.

But she was too late. Crossing her fingers beneath the table, Morgan stared in horror as Sagi knelt down and began reading.

Sagi's expression went from one of eagerness, to one of confusion, then to one of thoughtful wonder. For what felt like an eternity, he said nothing. Finally, his lips parted, and he spoke in a bare whisper. "Where are you from, really?" he asked.

"Whatever do you mean?" Severa said innocently, as Morgan began thinking furiously, searching for a way out.

"What I mean is, everyone knows of the three broken kings," Sagi answered slowly. "There's no way anyone as interested in old books as you three hasn't heard of them before."

"Oh, most certainly!" Owain said, fumbling over his words slightly. "Alas, we have heard of a great many people, and it is far too easy to forget a title or two!"

"Forget?" Sagi echoed disbelievingly. "Forget!? How could anyone forget King Ryoma of Hoshido and King Xander the First of Nohr, the most renowned rulers of their respective kingdoms? How could anyone forget King Corrin, founder and first king of Yato?"

A few moments passed as Severa and Owain stared at Sagi uncomprehendingly. Then, almost simultaneously, they turned and gaped at the book, realizing at long last what the song was about.

Sagi continued glaring suspiciously at the couple for a moment longer. Then there was a soft thump, and Sagi's eyes abruptly seemed to lose focus. He slumped forward, collapsing over the table, and laid very, very still.

Morgan sighed, and slid her sap back into her bag. "Well, now what?" she asked.


	9. Chapter 7: Knowledge

**~ Chapter 7 ~**

 **Knowledge**

Drawn by the commotion, Lucina came dashing around the corner, one hand resting upon Falchion's hilt. She relaxed visibly when she saw that Morgan, Severa, and Owain were all apparently unharmed. She shot Sagi's prone form an odd look. "What's wrong, Morgan?" she asked quietly.

Morgan bristled slightly, mildly annoyed that Lucina would automatically assume something was wrong. She didn't dwell on it too long, though; Lucina was right, after all. "Sagi's figured us out," Morgan explained, similarly keeping her voice down.

Together, Morgan and Lucina surveyed their surroundings, checking to see if anyone else had overheard them. Truthfully, Morgan wasn't entirely sure what she could've done if there was indeed someone listening in. That didn't seem to be the case, thankfully.

"He should be out cold for a few minutes, at least," Morgan finally said. "We should get him to someplace quiet so we can talk without being interrupted."

Lucina spent a few seconds longer looking around. Though this section of the archive was fairly secluded, she spotted a number of other patrons nearby when she peered around the nearest bookshelf. A couple of them looked to have fallen asleep quite naturally. "Then let's just carry him outside," Lucina suggested. "We can pretend he fell asleep on his own."

Eyeing Sagi, Morgan considered the library's peaceful atmosphere. "Good enough," she agreed. She slid off her cushion and marched over to Sagi's side, draping Sagi's arm over her shoulder. Lucina moved to Sagi's other side, and with considerable effort, the two of them managed to awkwardly lift Sagi's unconscious form. "Sis? Owain?" Morgan pleaded, panting slightly from exertion. "A little help, please?"

Neither Severa nor Owain looked up. In fact, the two of them were still fixated upon the book. Neither of them had even acknowledged Lucina's arrival.

"Sis!" Morgan insisted more urgently, though she didn't dare raise her voice.

"In the end, to the wilds did he soar, to depart in pursuit of love, to pass forevermore," Severa read aloud in a soft whisper. Her eyes flickered as she skipped over a few lines. "Until at last, did his torn spirit collapse, and so he was found with a blade in his heart, its hilt firmly in his cold grasp." She paused again, turning the page with trembling fingers. "The canyon beckoned to this empty shell, and into the abyss he willingly fell."

"Severa!" Morgan whined, drawing out each syllable of her sister's name as a petulant child might. "Come on, Sis! We don't have time for this!"

"But…" Severa tried to argue, and to Morgan and Lucina's surprise, her eyes seemed to be welling up with tears.

"Let's go, Severa," Owain said quietly, gently clasping his wife's hand. "Once we're safely away from here, we can ask Sagi what happened." Though he spoke sensibly, he, too, seemed thoroughly shaken.

Severa swallowed and nodded, and said nothing more as they made their way through and out of the Yato Archive.

* * *

Sagi awoke with a loud yawn. He opened his eyes halfway, looking about sleepily. To his surprise, he was lying in a fairly comfortable bed inside a lightly furnished bedroom. His head lolled over to the side. There, he found Morgan's dark, inquisitive eyes, staring at him from startlingly close by.

"Ah!" Sagi promptly cried out.

Morgan promptly clapped her hand over Sagi's mouth. "Hush!" she scolded sharply.

Sagi tried to pull away, but Morgan was too fast. Despite being so much smaller, she had no trouble reaching over and pinning Sagi down. After a few seconds, Sagi's form went lax. He nodded meekly.

"We aren't going to hurt you, Sagi. I promise," Morgan said, though she seemed strangely intimidating nonetheless. "We just need you to answer a few questions, and to promise not to tell anyone about us. Understand?"

Sagi whimpered softly, but he nodded again. Morgan released him, and he sat up nervously to take a look around. They were inside an inn room – one far too small to comfortably accommodate all ten of them. Morgan, Severa, Owain, and Inigo were crowded beside the bed. Lucina, Soleil, and Yashiro were seated upon a small wooden bench at the foot of the bed. Helios stood by the doorway, leaning against the door with his arms crossed, while Crescent was propped up beside the room's only window, keeping an eye on the streets below.

When Sagi finished looking around, he turned and shot Inigo a pleading look.

"Don't look at me," Inigo said, smiling slightly. He gestured towards Morgan. "She's in charge here."

"She is?" Sagi blurted.

Morgan scowled.

"I don't understand," Sagi moaned. "What's going on here?"

"That's what we want to know," Severa interrupted. "What happened to Lord Xander?"

" _Lord_ Xander?" Sagi echoed, staring at Severa uncomprehendingly. "You mean King Xander the First?"

"Yes, him," Severa said impatiently. "You said he was one of the kings from the poem, right? Which one was he?"

Sagi closed his eyes, and his chin slumped downward. "You're not making any sense," he groaned. "One moment, you don't know who he is, and the next moment, you're…" Sagi paused, his eyes snapping wide open. "Wait a moment… where are we? How did we get here? I thought we were in the library."

"We were. I put you to sleep so we could find some place to talk in private," Morgan explained. She lifted her sap and twirled it, grinning wickedly.

Sagi shuddered and tried to scurry away. That only resulted in him banging his head against the bed's headboard. "Ouch!"

"Look, Sagi. Just answer our questions, okay?" Morgan said, setting her sap down. "I know they're strange, but I'll explain everything after, as soon as you promise not to tell anyone."

When Sagi didn't immediately answer, Morgan reached for a staff instead. The polished amethyst cresting the staff sparkled ominously as Morgan leveled the staff at Sagi.

"Okay, I promise!" Sagi blurted.

"What happened to King Xander? And the other two kings from the poem?" Morgan prompted, setting her staff down beside her sap.

"He killed himself, according to the stories," Sagi said. He fidgeted nervously when he saw Severa, Owain, and Inigo's expressions harden. "And so he was found with a blade in his heart, its hilt cupped within his own hand," he recited.

"He killed himself?" Inigo echoed disbelievingly.

"Where? And why?" Morgan pressed.

"How should I know?" Sagi protested. "It happened centuries ago! All I know is what the legends say!"

"And what do the legends say?" Morgan asked impatiently.

"That he grew tired of life," Sagi said. "It is said that King Xander lived only for Nohr. When his son was ready to take his place, and King Xander knew his kingdom needed him no longer, he had nothing left to live for. He loved his children deeply, but he hardly knew them, as they hardly knew him. Some of the stories claim that King Xander never confessed his love to the woman he had truly cherished, either, choosing instead a queen who he felt was most fit to rule at his side."

"That's preposterous!" Inigo exclaimed. "King Xander loved his…" Even as he began to protest, however, Inigo's expression changed, and his voice gave way to silence.

"What of Lord Ryoma? And Lord Corrin?" Severa demanded.

"In the end, to the wilds did he soar, to disappear like true love lost, to pass forevermore," Sagi recited. "During the Hoshido-Nohr War, King Ryoma grew to care deeply for one of his comrades, a passionate and courageous young knight named Scarlet. Scarlet perished before the war's end; the Scarlet Museum was named in her honor. King Ryoma was never able to move past her death, however. When peace truly returned to Hoshido, he left the throne to his sister, Queen Hinoka. He took Raijinto and disappeared, choosing to live the life of a hermit instead. Then, one day, many months later, his body and sword were found washed up on a river shore after a particularly vicious storm."

Sagi paused for a moment, gathering his thoughts. "The crevasse sang out with a voice unheard, and he found that to madness, death he preferred," he sang quietly. "According to the stories, King Corrin lived a remarkably long time, longer than any human should. Long after he abdicated the throne to his daughter, he still remained a young man in his prime. Many thought it a blessing, but it drove King Corrin to madness, watching his friends and family pass on, one after another. Eventually, unable to live with his grief any longer, he cast himself into the Bottomless Canyon."

"Bottomless?" Morgan frowned.

Sagi shrugged. "It might not really be bottomless," he admitted. "But it runs deep enough that no one could ever retrieve King Corrin's body or sword."

"Then these three kings all killed themselves?" Lucina asked uncertainly.

"That's how the legend goes. A forlorn ending for each worthy tale," Sagi said. "Some people find greatness. Others live happily ever after. The unfortunate manage neither, and seldom does one manage both. Or so the stories seem to say."

Lucina, now seeming every bit as unsettled as Severa, Owain, and Inigo, withdrew and seemed to sink deep into thought.

"Did I say something wrong?" Sagi asked Morgan worriedly. "I don't understand. Who are you? And what am I not supposed to be telling people?"

Morgan hesitated. It was tempting to tell Sagi nothing and send him on his way. Judging from Severa's reaction, though, Sagi knew much that they did not, even if it was only old legends. Torn, Morgan glanced at her friends. When her gaze met with Helios's, the dark-haired man shrugged.

"You told me everything. That seemed to work out reasonably well in the end," Helios reminded her.

Morgan managed a slight smile. She nodded gratefully, then turned back to Sagi. "Sagi, what do you know of King Xander's retainers? Or of his siblings' retainers?"

"Not much," Sagi replied. "I've seen them in the Scarlet Museum. Everyone who fought during the Hoshido-Nohr war is memorialized there, whether or not they survived. I don't know much about them beyond their names, though."

"Then you've heard of Selena, Odin, and Laslow, right?" Morgan asked, gesturing towards Severa, Owain, and Inigo as she spoke.

Sagi began to nod, then stopped and frowned. "What?"

Morgan began to explain, and as her story wound on, Sagi began to stare at her, first in disbelief, then in confusion and awe.

* * *

"You're really serious about this, aren't you?" Sagi murmured.

"Sure am," Morgan said. "Sagi, the poem we found in the library seemed different from your song. It mentioned a staff of some sort. Could that be the Bifrost Staff?"

"I don't know," Sagi admitted. "I've never even heard of this Bifrost Staff before. Some of the older versions of the Ballad of the Three Kings mention a staff, but none of our stories say anything more about it."

"It's the Bifrost Staff," Severa answered quietly, her voice unusually raspy.

Morgan turned to her sister quizzically.

"Late in the war, Lord Corrin surrounded himself with his closest friends, his siblings, and their retainers," Severa explained. "Scarlet was one of the few exceptions. She was a knight from Cheve, a Nohrian city rebelling against the throne. Scarlet joined with Lord Ryoma, and the two of them agreed to fight for Lord Corrin. She…" Severa paused to take a deep breath, but then fell silent.

"Scarlet died protecting Lord Corrin shortly after," Owain explained, placing a comforting hand upon Severa's shoulder. "A few days after that, we found the Bifrost Staff, but by then, several more of our companions had fallen."

"Who did Lord Corrin use the staff on?" Morgan asked, a hint of worry creeping into her voice.

"No one," Inigo spoke up. "At first, Lord Corrin wanted to use it upon Scarlet. He still blamed himself for Scarlet's death, and could sense Lord Ryoma's grief. Lord Ryoma wasn't the only one grieving, though; so many others had been killed. Lord Corrin continued agonizing over the decision, right up until the very end of the war. Finally, Lord Ryoma stepped in. He begged Lord Corrin not to use the staff at all, to honor those who had given their lives for our cause by allowing them to rest in peace."

"What happened to the staff after that?" Morgan asked.

"Lord Corrin kept it, I believe," Inigo said. "The staff wasn't the only relic we found during the war. Many of the ancient treasures were housed here after the war, in Yato. Then, when the castle was built, they were all moved into the new treasury."

"They couldn't have remained there all this time," Yashiro interrupted. "A staff that powerful couldn't have gone unnoticed for so long. Even if King Corrin had resolved never to use it, his heirs may not have shown the same restraint."

"There are usually plenty of others with access to the treasury, too – guards, servants, advisors to the royal family, and more," Lucina agreed. "Someone would almost certainly have tried to steal it by now."

"Then Lord Corrin must have hidden the staff away somewhere else," Morgan said thoughtfully. "When he and his friends didn't speak of it again, the story may have eventually become a mere myth, and slowly forgotten." She pondered that theory for several seconds longer, then rounded on Sagi. "What do you think, Sagi? Any idea where we could begin searching?"

Sagi only stared at her helplessly, a bewildered look upon his face. "I have no idea," he said apologetically, sounding quite overwhelmed.

Upon noticing Sagi's distraught look, Morgan fidgeted guiltily. "It's alright," she said consolingly. "Really, it's okay. If you don't know anything, then you don't know anything. It's no big deal. We'll figure everything out eventually."

Sagi only nodded as his shoulders slumped tiredly.

"Do you want to leave?" Morgan offered. "You can go, if you'd like. Just don't tell anyone about us, or about what we're up to, okay?"

"I don't know," Sagi mumbled, lowering his gaze.

Morgan stared at Sagi, taken aback. "You don't know?" she echoed, confused. "What do you mean you don't know?"

Sagi said nothing, and only continued staring into his own lap.

Morgan continued studying Sagi for some time. Then she gasped aloud.

"What is it?" Lucina asked sharply, coming alert at once.

"It's nothing. Sorry," Morgan said, quickly recovering her composure. "Hey, Sagi, we never got to see that museum you wanted to show us. That's the Scarlet Museum you mentioned, right?"

Sagi looked up and nodded slowly.

"Why don't we go check it out?" Morgan asked. "We could really use a guide, you know."

"Umm… Morgan?" Severa interrupted. "Are you sure about this?"

"Yeah. It'll be fun," Morgan said nonchalantly. "How about it, Sagi?"

The idea did seem to cheer Sagi up somewhat, though he did give Morgan a suspicious look. "You aren't going to knock me out again, are you?" he asked.

"That depends," Morgan answered with a cheeky grin. "You aren't going to keep practicing your sanshin next to me while I'm trying to read, are you?"

Sagi managed a weak laugh. "Fair enough," he conceded. "Yeah, I can show you around the museum if you'd like. It's pretty neat."

"Lead the way," Morgan prompted brightly, helping Sagi to his feet.

* * *

Morgan and her companions had just exited the inn when Crescent gave Morgan a subtle nod and slowed her pace. Understanding the signal, Morgan held back as well. Soon, the two of them were behind the others and alone, able to speak without being overheard.

"You're not expecting to find anything useful at this museum, are you?" Crescent asked.

Morgan shook her head, smiling knowingly. "No, not really," she said, knowing better than to try to lie to her perceptive friend.

"Would you mind if Hel and I head back towards the library, then?" Crescent asked. "They had an interesting collection of artwork we were in the middle of browsing through. Maybe there's something else in there about these three kings and their war."

"Sure," Morgan agreed, feeling a bit jealous that her friends would be returning to the library without her.

"Alright. See you later. Have fun at the museum," Crescent said, winking. She reached forward and grabbed Helios by his sleeve. He began following without question, and the two of them veered away and headed off in the opposite direction, returning to the Yato Archive. Unfortunately, their departure did not go unnoticed; mere moments later, Severa and Lucina pulled Morgan side.

"Morgan, what's going on here?" Lucina asked firmly.

"What do you mean?" Morgan asked innocently.

"One moment, you were agreeing with Yashiro that there's no way the staff could've been kept in the treasury for so long, since someone would have stolen it," Severa said impatiently. "Now we're headed to a museum that's fully open to the public, and you're sending Helios and Crescent off on their own. Why?"

"I'm not sending anyone anywhere!" Morgan said defensively. "Cress wanted to head back and browse the Yato Archive some more."

"And you don't?" Severa challenged.

"I do, but there's time for that later. And maybe we'll find something interesting in the museum," Morgan shrugged.

Unconvinced, Lucina and Severa both continued staring firmly at the younger girl.

Morgan sighed. "Okay, probably not," she admitted. "But I'm not sure what else we can do right now, so we might as well try. It sounds like the staff's been missing for a very, very long time." Even as she spoke those words aloud, her eyes lit up as another possibility occurred to her. "Say, are there any Manaketes in this world? Or any other people who can live for hundreds of years?"

Severa began chewing her lip thoughtfully. "This world once had dragons who could live to be centuries old, but I don't think any of them are still around," she said. "There are shapeshifters, but they don't live much longer than humans do, from what I've heard."

"What about King Corrin?" Morgan asked, unwilling to relinquish her idea so easily. "According to Sagi's story, King Corrin lived a very long life. Far longer than he should have."

"I don't know how Lord Corrin lived so long," Severa quickly lied.

Morgan gave her sister a searching look. "Well, Sagi's song said it was a curse of some sort, I think," she said with a shrug. "I guess it doesn't help us much now, does it?"

"A curse?" Severa echoed wonderingly.

"Yeah. Why?" Morgan asked.

"When we were last here, we met a Nohrian sorceress who claimed to be cursed," Severa said. "She looked young – about your age, in fact – but always insisted she was much older than she appeared."

"Was she really?" Lucina asked.

"Probably," Severa said, sounding uncertain. "She certainly seemed to be extraordinarily well read for someone as young as she looked."

"I read a lot, too," Morgan pointed out.

"She also acted reasonably mature," Severa added in a deadpan tone.

"Hey!" Morgan protested.

"But she was also a practitioner of dark magic," Severa continued. "So even if she really was cursed, it probably wasn't the same curse that befell Lord Corrin – assuming Lord Corrin was cursed at all, that is."

"I see," Morgan said. "I wonder if she's still around."

"If she is, I don't know how we'd even begin to search for her," Severa said. "She used to keep to herself most of the time."

"Well, maybe we can ask Sagi whether he's heard of her once we're finished looking through the museum," Morgan suggested brightly.

"Oh? Are you done trying to change the subject, then?" Lucina teased.

Morgan blushed when she realized that she had inadvertently drawn Lucina's attention back to the very issue she had been trying to avoid.

"I know Sagi wanted to show us the museum, but if we're not expecting to learn anything there, this may turn out to be a complete waste of time," Lucina said gently.

"I know," Morgan admitted. "But Sagi's helped us quite a bit already, and…"

"And you felt guilty for scaring him the way you did," Lucina said understandingly. "Morgan, if you're really worried about Sagi, we should probably just send him on his way."

"We should send him on his way even if you aren't worried about him," Severa said. "He's a musician, Morgan. Trouble will find us sooner or later, and he won't be safe with us then."

"Do you think he'd be any safer wandering off into the forest alone?" Morgan asked, shaking her head. "If we leave him be, he'll just get himself into something even worse without anyone to help him."

"If he does, that's hardly our problem. We have enough troubles of our own to deal with," Severa insisted.

"Oh, lighten up, Sis," Morgan said dismissively. "Besides, I kind of want to see this museum, too."

"We're not on vacation, Morgan," Severa sighed.

Morgan, used to her sister's persistent scolding and complaining, only shrugged and smiled. She slipped between Severa and Lucina, then began skipping ahead and up the regal steps towards the grand, marble building looming ahead.

* * *

The museum's interior seemed both welcoming and daunting at the same time. Thick carpets stretched across the wide entrance hall and along the length of the corridor beyond. They were pleasantly soft, as if they had become worn over the years. They were immaculately clean, too, and the intricate patterns and violet hues remained intact. Stunning oil paintings lined the walls, set against gilded frames of various exotic woods. They depicted scenic landscapes ranging from idyllic prairies to grim, mountainside forests. Graceful silver sconces lined the walls, the torches casting a gentle glow throughout the building.

A pair of guards were waiting just inside the main doorway, playing a game of cards at a nearby table. One of them nodded at the museum's visitors, but otherwise, they did not seem too interested in their guests. Unlike the soldiers that had been accompanying Princess Claire, the armor these guards wore seemed more ceremonial than practical.

Following Sagi, Morgan and her companions made their way down the hallway until the path diverged into three. The middle corridor was roped off, with a large placard hanging from a plush, crimson cord.

"Oh, right," Sagi said, sounding dismayed.

"Central Wing temporarily closed, will reopen after the Museum Melee," Morgan read aloud. "Hey, Sagi? What's this melee thing that everyone keeps going on about?"

"It's why all the marauders are making their way here to Yato," Sagi said. "Every four years, the museum holds a competition. All the extra weapons and armor that have been donated to the museum are scattered throughout the central wing, and the participants fight to see who can get to them first."

For a long time, no one spoke, and everyone simply stared at Sagi, as if trying to determine whether he was joking or not. "That's ridiculous," Severa finally said, grimacing.

"Yes, it is," Sagi agreed. "The whole thing started four decades ago, when conflicts among distant nations began creeping across Hoshidan and Nohrian borders. The stories say that, centuries ago, Hoshido, Nohr, and Yato mutually agreed to take no part in the wars of other countries. King Xander the First sent Siegfried here to be kept in the museum, a symbol of Nohr's dedication to peace. When Raijinto was recovered, Queen Hinoka had it sent here as well."

"Siegfried is here?" Inigo asked, startled.

Sagi nodded towards the walkway that had been roped off. "Both Raijinto and Siegfried are kept on display in the Central Wing, along with several other relics."

"Other relics? What other relics?" Morgan asked.

"Fujinkyu, Hakagure Daisho, Suisha, Zanshin, Brynhildr, Bolverk, and Aurgelmir, among others," Sagi said.

"Are there any staves?" Morgan pressed.

"A few, but none of them are particularly well-known," Sagi replied. "I don't think the Bifrost Staff is among them. Most of the displays have little golden plaques listing what the artifacts are called, where they came from, and their former owners."

"Could we get a look at these relics?" Morgan asked. She stepped forward and leaned over the rope, only to find herself face-to-face with one of the museum's guards, a large, helmetless, armored man with a stern visage.

"What are you, blind?" the guard said in a gruff tone, jabbing his spear at the placard. "The wing's closed."

"Sorry," Morgan apologized, hastily withdrawing.

"You'll have to wait until the Melee is over," Sagi said. "Don't worry. If the staff you're searching for really is in there somewhere, then it's been centuries already; a couple of weeks longer won't hurt."

"If the staff really is here, we have nothing to worry about," Severa pointed out. "The guards here must be doing something right if they've managed to keep all these national treasures safe for so long."

"Stealing a priceless, one-of-a-kind weapon is pretty pointless," Morgan disagreed. "You can't sell something like that, since everyone would know it was stolen. You can't use it, either, since once the rightful owners know you have it, they'll try to get it back."

"Just a few months ago, someone stole Emperor Walhart's old axe straight from the treasury of Castle Roseanne," Severa remarked dryly.

"I was only borrowing it, and I returned it soon after," Morgan said. "But the people who were plotting to steal it had already stolen Amatsu from Chon'sin, and already had a price on their heads because of it. See? Most of these weapons wouldn't do a thief any good. At least, not for long."

"In other words, the guards here likely haven't seen too much trouble," Yashiro reasoned.

"The guards here see plenty of trouble," Sagi corrected. "Especially when the Museum Melee comes around. See, the idea behind the Museum Melee is, New Valla doesn't really need all of these weapons anymore. We offer them to travelers who are still trying to bring peace to their own lands, luring them here to the museum. The museum is meant to remind them of what they're fighting for. We ask, too, that they bring the weapons back here when they no longer need them."

"How many of those weapons are actually brought back here?" Soleil asked.

"Only the ones we seize from the marauders," Sagi grimaced, shaking his head. "The wars beyond New Valla's borders rage on, decade after decade, without an end in sight. Once in a while, a nation falls, and the conquered flee here. Some give up their weapons peacefully, but many more try to amass more in hopes of retaking their homes. If you ask me, the Museum Melee has become nothing more than entertainment. It's an excuse to watch people fight, and for the merchants to sell snacks and souvenirs."

"So, you think these guards are capable?" Morgan asked, shifting to steal another glance at the guard behind the rope.

"Capable enough that you shouldn't be trying to start any trouble," Sagi said, tugging Morgan away before she could attract the guard's attention again. "Let's check out the other wings of the museum for now. We can come back and visit the Central Wing once the Melee is over."

* * *

Sagi led the group toward the museum's western wing first. The wing was dedicated to the long-ago war between Hoshido-and Nohr. Some exhibits detailed lesser-known historical figures from the war. Others described some of the actual battles.

Normally, Morgan would have found the detailed models of terrain and troop formations to be quite captivating, but the young tactician quickly determined that these representations had very little basis in reality. "This doesn't make any sense," she grumbled, upon reviewing one particular diorama of a number of ships trapped in a sea of ice.

"What doesn't make any sense?" Severa asked, approaching the display case.

"It says here that the two larger ships shown belonged to the Nohrians. They caught up to King Corrin and his allies, then used powerful magic to freeze the sea around them, locking both fleets in place," Morgan said, indicating the golden plaque beside the display. "If the Nohrian ships were fast enough to overtake King Corrin's fleet, why didn't they just surround and capture one of the enemy ships right away? Or wait until they were close enough to board before freezing the water?"

"The Nohrians could've flown over the ice. They had wyverns," Severa said.

"Not enough of them," Morgan disagreed. "The plaque says most of the Nohrian forces wound up marching across the ice."

"I guess they didn't really think things through," Severa said, avoiding Morgan's gaze.

Morgan shook her head obstinately. "It doesn't make any sense," she insisted. "I don't think this battle ever took place."

"Oh, it definitely took place," Severa muttered to herself.

"Huh?"

"Never mind. Let's move on," Severa said, ushering her sister towards the next display.

* * *

Unlike Morgan, Soleil didn't spend too long analyzing any of the particular displays. Instead, she flitted excitedly from one to the next while relentlessly bombarding her father with questions. "What about this one?" she asked eagerly, pointing at a model of Hoshidan soldiers scattered throughout a forest.

Inigo peered at the model, then shook his head. "That's Mokusho, isn't it? No, I wasn't there. I don't think any Nohrians were involved in that battle."

"Really? Darn," Soleil said. She didn't stay disappointed for long. "But you have to be in at least one of these, right? How about this one over here? Port Dia, it says. Lady Elise was here! Were you and Lord Xander there, too?"

"I'm afraid not," Inigo chuckled.

"Oh, how about this one?" Soleil asked, darting up to a model of a town in ruins. "Lord Xander was here! It says he fought against Lord Ryoma here, and that the town was destroyed during their skirmish! Were you here?"

Inigo shook his head and grinned. "Unfortunately," he said. He nodded towards Severa, who seemed equally exasperated as she followed her younger sister around. "Lady Camilla had already begun following Lord Corrin by then."

Soleil's eyes went wide with amazement. "You and Severa fought here? Who won?"

"Ah… well…" Inigo said uncomfortably.

"She won, didn't she?" Soleil said gleefully. Without waiting for an answer, she continued smiling delightedly as she rushed towards the next display.

* * *

"These seem reasonable," Severa said as she and Morgan approached two displays featuring brief skirmishes across an elaborately detailed mountainside landscape.

Morgan simply pointed to the plaque beside the model.

"Little is known about the small skirmishes that frequently occurred before the war began in earnest. Survivors were few in number, and though their accounts of these battles remain preserved in writing, many details were lost. The battles shown here have been reimagined by scholars based upon their understanding of both Hoshidan and Nohrian combat tactics, the locations of these skirmishes, and the number of soldiers purportedly present," Severa read aloud dully. "Well, at least it looks pretty."

Morgan leaned in closer to the display to inspect one of the carefully painted soldiers. "I've never seen armor like this before. Does Hoshidan armor really look this way?" she asked.

"Sure does," Sagi said, overhearing Morgan. "Hoshidans regard martial training as a sort of art. Even nowadays, there are many Hoshidans who still train with katana or naginata-shaped sparring poles."

"What's a naginata?" Morgan asked.

"It's a glaive with a thin, curved blade," Severa explained. "They look a lot like the glaives the Sun Guard soldiers in Monolith used."

"If you're interested in Hoshidan equipment, the East Wing has a lot of statues of soldiers with their equipment," Sagi suggested. As he spoke, he glanced at Severa, startled, as if another thought had just occurred to him.

"What is it?" Severa asked.

"There are statues in the East Wing for almost all of the soldiers who fought beside King Corrin during the Hoshido-Nohr War," Sagi explained quietly. "I remember seeing a statue of Selena there, but I can't quite remember what it looked like."

"Are Owain and Inigo in there, too?" Morgan asked eagerly. "I mean, Odin and Laslow?"

"I think so," Sagi said, looking uncertainly across the room towards the others.

"Let's go and take a look," Morgan decided, racing off to gather the rest of her companions before Severa could object.

"Is something wrong?" Sagi asked, noticing Severa's blank expression.

"It's nothing," Severa said, shaking her head and retreating into her thoughts. Preoccupied as she was, she didn't say another word as her friends gathered around her and started off towards the East Wing. Instead, her mind continued to spin as she tried to imagine looking up her own face, memorialized in stone, or perhaps the face of another woman entirely – whatever face the sculptor had imagined to be hers. Intriguing at the prospect was, it felt inexplicably intimidating, too.

* * *

Upon reaching the East Wing, Severa's feeling of unease immediately redoubled. There was a graceful elegance to the grand chamber – a sense of reverence inspired by the spacious walkways, frosted glass ceiling, and pristine marble walls. At the same time, it was not unlike walking into a cemetery or mausoleum; the room had a hauntingly solemn atmosphere that spoke of memories and great loss.

Numerous, life-size marble statues were clearly visible from the chamber's entrance. Some stood alone, while others stood in clusters of two or three. Each statue rested upon a pedestal, and each pedestal was marked with a golden plaque describing the individual depicted.

Owain's statue was the easiest to find. It stood beside a statue of another man of similar height, whose eyes seemed to follow anyone who approached it. This second statue's lips were curved in a perpetual, sly smirk, as if it were enjoying a joke only it could understand, but it went almost entirely unnoticed beside its more flamboyant companion.

If it weren't for the absurd pose, Morgan would not have even recognized Owain's statue. The statue's rugged face and wildly tousled hair gave it a fierce look, and its robes, bereft of the clingy, translucent fabric in their marble form, appeared oddly sinister.

"Odin Dark, a mysterious hero who sailed across the very fabric of reality in order to protect Prince Leo and shepherd the country of Nohr towards peace. Little is known of Odin, and though there are countless accounts of his existence, many scholars still believe that this man was not a man at all, but a metaphor for courage and conviction," Owain read aloud, almost crowing with delight as he reached the end of the epitaph. "This is amazing!"

Sagi shuffled back and forth a few times, as if to view the statue from different angles. "I guess it does sort of look like you if you squint," he said.

"It makes you look even dorkier, somehow," Severa snipped.

Owain took it all in stride and merely laughed aloud, prompting Morgan to look about warily. Thankfully, asides from Morgan and her companions, the museum's eastern wing was deserted.

Morgan then looked to the nearest statues, moving to the first group that caught her interest. "This looks like riding armor," Morgan thought aloud as she approached the statue of a slender, handsome man with a long ponytail. "And his weapon really does look like a Sun Guard glaive."

"He was a Pegasus knight, and retainer to Princess Sakura of Hoshido," Severa explained. A slight scowl crossed her face. "He was also arrogant beyond measure, and stupidly reckless."

"That makes sense," Morgan said quietly. "It says here that he died during the war, trying to draw attention away from his princess. He went too far behind enemy lines and his allies couldn't reach him until it was too late."

Severa grimaced and fell silent, regretting her harsh words almost immediately. She had rather disliked the brash and prodigious knight, but in truth, the man's daring move had saved many of his companions. Unfortunately, none of those companions – not even Severa – had been able to return the favor.

Thankfully, Morgan did not dwell on the statue for long, nor did she notice Severa's expression. She glanced briefly at the statue beside it, that of a young swordswoman, then moved on to the statues of two shinobi in the service of King Ryoma, one who had perished defending his then-prince, and one who had retired to become artist upon her king's departure from Hoshido. After that display came the retainers of Queen Hinoka: a monk who left after his queen's coronation to found a monastery, and a noblewoman who remained forever by the queen's side.

They then came to one of the statues that stood alone: Prince Takumi's retainer, a swordsman and one of the kensei that Inigo and Sagi had spoken of before. "Why did Prince Takumi only have one retainer?" Morgan asked Sagi curiously. "Each of his siblings had two, didn't they?"

"Prince Takumi had another retainer, but she later went on to become his wife," Sagi explained. "The Hoshidan and Nohrian royals are commemorated in the Central Wing instead, as well as their families."

"I see," Morgan said, slightly disappointed.

A few minutes later, Morgan found herself standing amidst statues of former Nohrian soldiers once more. Not long after, they happened across Inigo's statue. The statue of Laslow showed a far younger Inigo, still in his prime. Like Owain's statue, the portrayal had a stern, menacing air about it.

"These words seem familiar," Inigo said wonderingly, as he read the surprisingly flattering description. "It's almost as if Lord Xander chose this epitaph himself, but if he did, he was far more generous than I would have expected."

"Don't tell me you were still dallying about after…" Severa began.

"Of course not!" Inigo said hastily.

Severa shot Inigo a piercing stare, then grudgingly nodded. "Good," she said flatly.

Soleil stared at her father and Severa, bewildered. "Dad? Dallying about? With who?" she asked curiously.

"Never mind that," Inigo insisted, before turning to Morgan. "Let's keep looking, Morgan. Your sister should be around here somewhere, too."

"Right," Morgan nodded, though the brief epitaphs they had seen so far suggested that Severa's would be equally uninformative. They kept looking anyways, and just as Inigo had predicted, Severa's statue was fairly close by, standing beside one of a small, rather nondescript woman named Belka.

Severa let out a small gasp as her gaze fell upon her own marble visage. The statue was smiling: a gentle, charming, and even demure expression, one that was quite at odds with the statue's confident pose, decorated armor, and faithfully recreated sword. The sculpture seemed endearing and beautiful, yet dangerously competent all at once.

"Interesting. I don't think I've seen that particular look from you before," Inigo grinned.

"Oh, hush," Severa commanded, punching Inigo gently on the shoulder.

"The idol has nearly achieved the impossible, capturing more of your beauty than I had imagined any piece of cold stone could," Owain added.

"And you!" Severa said, glaring at her husband, though she couldn't quite hide her blush. She began inspecting the statue again, feeling woefully inadequate all the while. Somehow, to her, the statue seemed too flawless and too beautiful. "Who designed this thing, anyways? It looks nothing like me."

Though Severa's question had been rhetorical, Morgan, who had been reading the plaque, was ready with an answer. "Princess Camilla, I think," she guessed. "This inscription isn't quite like the others. I think the princess must have chosen it herself, which means she probably designed the statue, too."

Surprised, Severa leaned forward to read the inscription.

* * *

 _Dear Selena,_

 _As beautiful as she was capable, and a treasured friend as precious as any princess could ever ask for. Her one and only failing was that her time in this world was too short._

* * *

While Severa silently read the inscription, Morgan turned her thoughts back towards the other inscriptions she had read. "If this was chosen by Princess Camilla herself, then the other epitaphs were probably all chosen by people of that era, too," she mused. "So why does Owain's sound like it's written by a modern scholar?"

"Good question," Yashiro said, looking thoughtfully across the room in the direction of Owain's statue.

Morgan looked to Owain, who, at first, seemed just as perplexed. Morgan quickly saw through the façade, however, smiling when she noticed that Owain was trying his best to keep a straight face. "You wrote your epitaph yourself," she accused.

"Me? How could I have?" Owain said innocently. "I didn't even know there would be a museum when I left!"

"Nor did I, and that was more than a decade later," Inigo added. "There was no talk of a museum of any sort when Soleil and I left New Valla."

"But it sounds exactly like something Owain would write, doesn't it?" Morgan insisted, becoming more confident in her guess. "He must have written it down somewhere before leaving."

"Did you?" Lucina, torn between amusement and exasperation, prodded Owain.

Owain seemed ready to continue protesting, but could hide his amusement no longer. "I left a number of my old notebooks behind," he admitted, shaking with laughter. "My old partner threatened to read through all of them if I didn't take them with me, but I never thought he was serious, or that he'd actually find a use for anything he found in them."

"You wrote your own epitaph!? That's so cool!" Soleil declared, eyes wide with amazement.

"No, it's terrible," Inigo corrected, though by this point, he, too, could no longer contain his laughter.

Only then did Morgan notice that her older sister had remained silent throughout their conversation. In fact, it looked as if Severa hadn't been listening at all. "Sis? Are you alright?" Morgan asked worriedly. When Severa did not respond, Morgan reached over and poked her sharply in the side. "Severa!"

"Ow! Morgan!"

"What's wrong, Sis?" Morgan asked.

"Wrong? Nothing's wrong," Severa said hastily. "Are we done here? Where are we headed next?"

Unconvinced, Morgan gave her sister a scrutinizing stare. Severa matched her sister's stare evenly, though, and eventually, Morgan decided to let the matter drop. "I think we've seen enough," she decided, looking around one last time. "Let's head back to the library."

"The library again?" Sagi reluctantly groaned, though he began following nonetheless as Morgan led the way back towards the museum's entrance.


	10. Chapter 8: Dusk Falls

**~ Chapter 8 ~**

 **Dusk Falls**

The sun was already beginning to set by the time Morgan and her companions exited the museum. The city streets were peacefully quiet by then. Only a handful of people remained outdoors – merchants who were busying themselves packing up their goods and closing their market stalls for the night.

Lucina looked around the open streets for some time. Then, realizing that there was little chance of them being overheard, Lucina moved to walk beside Owain, Inigo, and Soleil. "You know, I was expecting the museum to have more to say about the war itself," she began conversationally. "Even those displays modeled after battles from the war seemed more focused on who was where during the earlier parts of the war. I still don't even know what the war was really about."

"That makes two of us," Soleil chimed in, staring at her father expectantly.

Inigo made a face. "I told you, Soleil. Even those of us who fought in the war can't really say what it was about," he said. "The war began long before our time."

"Still, you must have some inkling as to why these kingdoms were fighting," Lucina said.

"If only," Inigo said wishfully.

Lucina narrowed her eyes at Inigo skeptically. Inigo was hard to read, but Owain was looking pointedly away. "Was it truly that complicated?" she asked, staring firmly at Owain.

"Indeed," Owain said gravely, though he continued averting his gaze. "Two kingdoms bound by a conflict so ancient that neither side understood the truth of the war until the very end."

"Then how did King Corrin end up bringing an end to the war?" Lucina prompted.

"Through great sacrifice," Inigo said. "That's why the museum stands. It's meant to help us remember those who fought in the war and paid the price for our victory, not the war itself."

"But it's just as important to remember the war, is it not?" Lucina argued. "Otherwise, history threatens to repeat itself one day."

Inigo gave Lucina a strange look.

"What?" Lucina asked defensively.

A faint smile crept across Inigo's lips, and he shook his head slowly. "Just how much time have you and little Morgan been spending together?" he chortled. "The Lucina I remember wasn't this philosophical."

Lucina laughed, too, blushing slightly. "Quite a bit," she admitted. "Morgan seemed awfully lonely when she was younger."

"Really? How come?" Owain asked.

"You remember how it was when we were little, don't you? Growing up together in the castle, then later on the road… all we really had was each other," Lucina said, her smile fading.

"And so, we were always there for each other," Owain agreed. It was a nostalgic thought, but one accompanied by many painful memories.

"It's not like that for them," Lucina said, glancing over at Morgan; though the young, red-haired girl seemed to be looking around at the city as they went, Lucina knew she was listening. "It's been quite different, watching them grow up in times of peace. Their paths haven't been chosen for them, as ours were for us. They're free to choose for themselves, and only Morgan chose this particular course."

"What are you talking about?" Soleil asked, frowning.

Instead of answering Soleil's question, Inigo, too, peered in Morgan's direction. "Well, they're still young. They may still reconsider," he said quietly.

"I keep hoping she will," Lucina said wryly, her tone suggesting that she thought that possibility unlikely. "War brings about lessons that shouldn't be forgotten, even if we'd sooner forget." She glanced over her shoulder in the direction of the museum, which was slowly diminishing on the horizon. "Strange that the museum had so little to say about the history of these kingdoms and their war. Even in the library, I didn't find many books on the subject."

"Really? That's odd," Inigo said. He seemed strangely insincere, though. "Well, if you'd like, Owain and I could tell you more about our comrades during the war."

"Ooh! Yes, yes, yes!" Soleil squealed excitedly.

Lucina laughed, and though she understood that Inigo was trying to change the subject, she decided to play along. "Sure," she agreed.

"Hmm… let's see," Inigo said thoughtfully. "There was Lord Xander's other retainer, who he chose years before he and I ever met. She was an interesting lass. Most of the castle's servants were terrified of her…"

* * *

Just as Lucina had suspected, Morgan had indeed been following the conversation discretely. She had only barely resisted the urge to interject when the discussion had turned to her. She and Lucina were on the same page regarding the museum, though. Not wanting to ruin Lucina's ploy, the younger girl settled for looking away and rolling her eyes in annoyance.

Morgan continued listening in as Owain and Inigo began sharing stories of the people they had known in Nohr. However, it didn't escape her notice that both of them seemed to be trying to dance around the subject of the war itself. Their anecdotes glossed over anything relating to the conflict between the two kingdoms.

These omissions didn't appear to bother Soleil any. She had known many of the faces that could be seen in the museum, but seemed to enjoy hearing more about her father's old friends nonetheless. Sagi, too, moved closer to join in the conversation. Having known little more about these war heroes than the brief epitaphs displayed in the museum, he clung to each of Owain and Inigo's words eagerly.

Before long, Morgan grew tired of eavesdropping. Her attention was drawn to her sister instead. Severa hadn't spoken a single word since leaving the museum's eastern wing. There was a curious, distant look in her eyes, and she seemed to be following the rest of her companions mindlessly.

"Hey, Sis? Are you _sure_ you're alright?" Morgan asked, tugging gently at her sister's sleeve.

"What?" Severa asked blankly, glancing down towards Morgan.

"You don't seem to be yourself," Morgan said. "Was it something we saw back at the museum?"

"I guess," Severa mumbled.

"What is it?" Morgan asked, more insistently.

"It's nothing, really," Severa said, straightening suddenly. "It's just a bit odd to see yourself carved out of stone."

"I suppose," Morgan said, unconvinced. "Owain and Inigo seemed to be alright with it, though."

"Owain loved it, but that's to be expected," Severa said, rolling her eyes. "And Inigo's statue looks so much younger than he does now. For him, it's probably more like looking at someone else entirely."

"But…"

"How would you feel if we returned to Water's Edge to find that the refugees have built a statue of you?" Severa asked.

Morgan winced, feeling the verbal jab keenly, just as Severa knew she would. "That would be a bit weird," she said. "Maybe they'd make me look a bit taller." Though Morgan maintained her carefree tone as best she could, her expression was quite telling.

"Maybe," Severa said, the distant look returning to her eyes.

But not for long, for only a few seconds later, a chorus of frantic screams rang out from further down the road.

"What was that?" Severa asked, immediately snapping back to reality. Her hand instinctively went to the shaft of her lance.

"It came from the library," Morgan guessed uneasily, for the noise had come from the very direction they were headed.

More screams filled the air. A tendril of smoke lazily snaked upwards into the sky, clearly marking the Yato Archive and confirming Morgan's fears.

Without another word to her friends – who were already similarly drawing their weapons – Morgan began sprinting ahead, drawing her sword as she went.

* * *

The others quickly overtook Morgan as they, too, raced towards the Yato Archive. They reached their destination shortly after to find a ring of horrified onlookers gathered around the burning building. The vibrant flames danced wildly, as if reflecting the vermillion sunset above.

"Out of the way!" Lucina called out in an authoritative tone. She and Severa burst into the midst of the spectators, who promptly scattered, shrieking in terror.

The view cleared, revealing a dozen men and women standing before the Yato Archive. Many of them carried lit torches, and some had weapons drawn, too. All of them were clad in Valmese plate armor.

Standing beside Morgan, Yashiro brandished his tome, then hesitated. As it was with the marauders in the forest, he wondered if his potent fire magic would only worsen their situation.

Instead, Morgan was the first to strike. A fountain of energy blossomed from Alondite's blade, spiraling forward and sweeping one of the Valmese mercenaries off his feet. The mercenary collapsed, spewing surprised curses as he went. He recovered quickly, though, clambering back to his feet immediately before flashing a wicked smirk Morgan's way. Neither he nor his companions seemed the least bit surprised.

"They knew we were coming," Morgan realized. She sheathed Alondite and drew her father's spell tome instead, deciding it best to keep her distance for now.

"Then they should've run," Severa replied coolly. Setting her lance against her shield, she charged to meet the approaching mercenaries. Owain and Lucina were quick to follow, and the three of them began tearing into the mercenaries' ranks.

Inigo made to follow, but paused just long enough to clamp one hand over his daughter's shoulder. "Keep an eye on Morgan," he instructed, nodding briefly towards the young tactician. Without waiting for Soleil's answer, he, too, joined the fray.

"I'll be fine," Morgan objected discontentedly, gritting her teeth as she began concentrating upon her tome.

"Absolutely fine. I'll keep you safe," Soleil promised, smiling in spite of the chaos around them. She shuffled a few steps closer to Morgan's side, brandishing her sword dramatically at the first enemy to approach them: a particularly burly soldier carrying a heavy, jagged axe in both hands.

Morgan promptly moved away from Soleil for a clear shot at the approaching mercenary. A bolt of lightning erupted from her fingertips, striking the incoming mercenary squarely in the chest and hurling him to the ground. The mercenary laid there, whimpering as his scorched form continued to twitch uncontrollably. "I can protect myself," Morgan clarified.

Morgan began readying a second spell, this time aiming for the three mercenaries that had surrounded Lucina. Yashiro struck first, though. With a quick gesture, he called a fiery orb into being. The flaming sphere descended upon one of the three mercenaries, then blossomed outwards. The mercenary disappeared into the swirling inferno, her cry of agony lost amidst the crackling of the flames.

Lucina recoiled from the heat instinctively, but did not let it distract her for long. She pivoted hard, wrapping around her opponents and chasing after one of her two remaining opponents. The startled mercenary swung his sword wildly at Lucina as she approached, but the Ylissean princess weaved around the attack easily enough. Falchion shot forward, cleanly impaling the mercenary's thigh and eliciting an agonized scream.

Despite their apparent confidence, already, half of the mercenaries had fallen. By the looks on their faces, the remaining mercenaries seemed more interested in escaping than fighting on. Only then did they realize they had been pinned against the Yato Archive with nowhere to run. They retreated a few steps, drawing closer to the flames as they tightened their formations.

A loud crash sounded from above, the ringing, shattering noise of breaking glass. Morgan looked up just in time to see an unfamiliar figure falling from one of the building's second story windows, away from the doorway. The figure plummeted to the bushes below, landing with a soft noise that could barely be heard over the commotion. The bushes, too, had caught aflame, but did not seem to bother the escaping individual.

Morgan studied the figure carefully for a few heartbeats longer. As soon as she was certain that it was neither Helios nor Crescent, she raised her tome and fired again. Her hesitation had cost her, though; her target had already fully recovered from the fall and dove aside, narrowly avoiding the bolt of lightning. Then, without a glance back, the figure began scrambling away, disappearing between the nearest buildings.

"What is it? What's going on?" Soleil asked, for she had seen Morgan's spell but not the fleeing target.

"Never mind that," Morgan said, putting the figure out of mind for the time being. "I'm heading inside."

Sagi, who had thus far done his best to stay out of the way, gaped at Morgan. "You're doing what!?" he gasped.

"You can't go inside!" Soleil protested, shaking her head fervently.

"Hel and Cress are in there," Morgan reminded sharply. Then, ignoring Soleil and Sagi's protests, she darted ahead, squeezing nimbly between Lucina and Owain.

The Valmese mercenaries cried out in surprise when they saw a small figure storming their way. That was the last straw for them, for none of them had the presence of mind to comprehend what was happening. Their formations crumbled, and they began fleeing every which way, throwing the one-sided skirmish into utter chaos.

"Wait! Come back!" Soleil called, scrambling to keep up with Morgan. She, too, weaved through the panicking Valmese mercenaries. Her father tried to reach out and stop her, but Soleil was too quick for him, disappearing into the library after Morgan.

* * *

As soon as Morgan entered the building, she caught a face full of acrid, black smoke. After a brief coughing fit, she pressed on, keeping her head low. The stinging smog left her partially blind, but her keen ears quickly picked up the sound of clashing steel, and she began racing towards the noise.

"Morgan! Wait up!"

Morgan recognized Soleil's voice, and could hear the other girl struggling to navigate the debris that had fallen around the entrance. "Get out of here, Soleil!" she shouted back.

"No way!" Soleil retorted. Her protests dissolved into a series of sputtering coughs, but like Morgan, she continued on undeterred, her disheveled hair flying wildly behind her.

Soleil caught up to Morgan a few seconds later, and the two of them pushed their way onwards past rows and rows of bookshelves. Finally, at the back end of the first floor, the two of them across more of the Valmese mercenaries. Three were standing in the hallway beside one of the aisles, hunched low to avoid the worst of the fumes. None of them seemed to have noticed Morgan and Soleil approaching.

Further down the aisle, Helios was battling four more of the mercenaries. They were cramped in tight quarters, for the shelves were only about six feet apart. It should've been to Helios's advantage, but he fought with only one of his two swords. The other rested upon a pile of armored bodies. A terrible gash ran along the length of his right arm, blood dripping with his every movement.

Crescent was carefully poised behind Helios; it looked as if the pair had intentionally backed themselves into the corner. Crouching to one knee, with her cloak wrapped around her nose and mouth to ward off the smoke, she sent arrow after arrow sailing past Helios.

The three Valmese mercenaries at the aisle's entrance exchanged uneasy looks as another of their comrades collapsed. They were then blasted aside as Morgan unleashed another bolt of lightning at their feet. One suffered the brunt of the blast and was thrown down the aisle, where he crumpled to the ground. A second was flung headfirst into the nearest bookshelf, which toppled over.

The third mercenary, through sheer fortune, managed to avoid the worst of the lightning. He spun around, sword drawn, but before he could do anything else, Soleil smashed the hilt of her sword into the man's face.

"Hel, Cress! This way!" Morgan urged.

Crescent's next arrow struck one of the remaining mercenaries in the face, exploding into a blinding flash of light. Obscured by the smoke and light, Helios went into a wild, forward spin, and the last of the mercenaries collapsed, gasping for air and clawing at his wounded abdomen.

Helios promptly sheathed his remaining sword, then offered his hand to Crescent, helping her over the fallen mercenaries. Crescent stooped low as she climbed over the corpses, retrieving Helios's fallen sword as she went. With that, the four of them took off running, racing towards the entrance and pushing their way through the thickening, noxious smoke.

* * *

When they reached the entrance of the library, they found the rest of their companions waiting just inside. A large table had been flipped onto its side, forming a makeshift blockade across the doorway.

"What's going on?" Morgan asked, as she, Helios, Crescent, and Soleil moved up to the barricade and crouched down behind it.

"More of the mercenaries wrapped around behind us after you ran inside," Severa explained, her countenance grim.

"Over three dozen of them. Most of them are carrying bows," Lucina added. As if to accentuate her claims, a handful of arrows soared over the barrier. Several more struck the table with a series of clattering noises.

"We can't stay here. We have to get past them somehow," Morgan tried to say, though she accidentally took in a mouthful of smoke, cutting her off.

"There's too many of them," Yashiro warned. "We can't take them by ourselves."

As if on cue, war horns began blaring from just outside the library, loud enough to drown out the sizzling of the flames. The barrage of arrows stopped.

"Those were Nohrian war horns," Sagi said hopefully, as the sounds of fighting reached them.

"If we head outside right now, we'll be caught in the open," Lucina warned, reaching out to catch Sagi before he could rise.

"We could lift the table and bring it with us, like a shield," Inigo suggested uncertainly.

An ominous laugh echoed loudly through the Yato Archive, as if mocking those trapped within. Morgan and her companions turned to find a hooded figure standing behind them, roughly fifty feet away. The figure's silhouette appeared human, but stood fully seven feet in height. He – at least, Morgan thought it was a man – continued to laugh in a high, cold voice.

Flames gushed outwards from the figure, feeding the raging wildfire. The ferocious blaze swept over Morgan and her companions. The barrier, too, burst into flame.

"We can't stay here!" Sagi cried out, flailing about and trying desperately to extinguish his burning clothing.

Sagi was right, Morgan realized. She drew her sword. "Stand back," she warned, before sweeping the burning table aside. Pieces of burning lumber flew every which way, accompanied by a shower of sparks.

With that, the harried group stormed out, each of them batting at their clothes as they went. Another wave of magical flames followed them outside, licking at their heels. The figure within continued to laugh, but the horrid, grating sound was soon drowned out by the crashing sounds of the crumbling library.

* * *

There was no sign of the additional Valmese soldiers outside. Instead, the streets around the building were swarmed with Nohrian soldiers clad in their polished, gleaming black armor. Morgan had barely gone five steps before one such soldier separated her from her friends. The armored knight scooped her up effortlessly and began carrying her away.

"Hey! Let go!"

The knight ignored Morgan and her struggling, eventually setting her down beside a nearby tavern. "Stay here," he warned tersely, before racing back to assist his comrades.

As peeved as she was about being treated as a child, Morgan did as she was told. She watched the turbulent throng in front of the library and saw several of her friends being ushered away by Claire's disciplined soldiers. A few of the Nohrian soldiers were otherwise preoccupied, either with keeping bystanders back or with examining the fallen Valmese mercenaries for signs of life.

A load, creaking groan echoed through the streets, drowning out all other noises for an instant. Then, rumbling crashes sounded from within the building as several supporting beams gave way at last.

"Fall back, everyone!"

Claire's voice rang out imperiously, reaching even those who could not see her. The Nohrian soldiers hastened to obey, hurrying anyone still alive away from the Yato Archive. The orders had come at last possible second; more booming crashes rang out from inside the library, and the second floor began to fall away. Burning debris and rubble tumbled outwards, raining down upon the corpses of the fallen Valmese mercenaries.

"Are you alright, miss?" one of the soldiers asked, approaching Morgan.

Morgan looked up at the soldier, vaguely recognizing the man from their journey to Castle Yato. "Thanks, Trevor," she said.

"No worries," the soldier said. He looked surprised, as if he hadn't expected to be recognized or remembered.

The soldier left to rejoin his comrades, leaving Morgan alone. Morgan began scanning the crowd for any sign of her friends; she had seen Lucina, Soleil, and Yashiro being escorted away, but had not spotted any of the others before.

Inigo detached himself from the crowd and moved to join Morgan. "Everyone's fine," he said reassuringly.

Morgan relaxed visibly at that, and settled back to wait patiently for the rest of her friends.

Instead, it was Claire who joined them first, accompanied by three of her soldiers. "Fan out and clear the streets around the archive. Evacuate anyone within two blocks of it, and make sure anything flammable is moved far, far away from the wreckage," she instructed.

The three soldiers saluted and left, leaving the princess alone with Morgan and Inigo.

Once her soldiers were out of sight, Claire's expression softened, becoming rife with confusion and worry. "What happened, Inigo?" she asked.

"I'm not quite certain myself," Inigo admitted. "We were visiting the archive earlier today. Two of our friends stayed behind while we went to see the Scarlet Museum. After we finished touring the museum, we came back for our friends, and instead found those ruffians clustered around the library's entrance."

"Marauders," Claire guessed grimly. "And better equipped than most I've seen."

Morgan and Inigo exchanged worried looks, but neither of them corrected Claire.

"There were more of them than I expected, too," Claire said worriedly. "We chased away nearly a score of them when we arrived."

"There were more inside. More than a dozen."

Morgan, Inigo, and Claire turned to see Helios and Crescent approaching.

"We were looking through some of the scrolls when they approached us," Crescent explained. "They were cloaked and hooded, and seemed out of place. We asked them what they were searching for, but they didn't answer. Instead, they tore off their cloaks, and one of them threw a flask of burning oil into the nearest shelves."

"They set the library aflame on purpose?" Claire asked, aghast.

"It sure didn't look like an accident," Helios replied grimly. "They drew their weapons, then, and moved to block off the main hallway. We fled deeper into the library. They chased after us, setting more fires as they went."

"What sort of scrolls were you looking at?" Morgan asked.

"Old paintings, mostly," Crescent answered. She looked back at the burning archive, a somber look in her eyes. "Some of them were quite nice."

Claire gave Helios and Crescent a thoughtful look, studying their appearances carefully. "They may have noticed your weapons," she guessed. "Though I don't see why they would've been in the Yato Archive, of all places. Or how they dared to attack anyone within the city limits, for that matter."

"I didn't realize carrying a sword could be so dangerous," Helios remarked.

Meanwhile, Crescent seemed to have other concerns on her mind. "Morgan, could you tend to Helios's arm?" she asked. She nudged Helios forward. Helios obediently extended his right arm, wincing in pain as he peeled back his tattered sleeve from the wicked gash.

"Oh! Yes, of course," Morgan said, rummaging through her pack for her staff. As she began tending to her wounded friend, she turned and asked Claire, "Are any of your men hurt, Princess?"

"I don't believe so. The marauders fled as soon as we arrived," Claire said. She continued staring at the ruined archive, her face now creased with doubt. "The Melee has always brought us trouble. We've kept it going for so long nonetheless, hoping that one day, it would pay off. Now this. There were tens of thousands of tomes and scrolls kept here. Centuries of art and history, reduced to naught but ash by these vandals."

"Were there copies of the tomes kept elsewhere?" Morgan asked in a small voice.

"Copies of some of them, certainly," Claire said. "Castle Krakenburg houses a vast archive of its own. I've heard that Castle Shirasagi does the same. Many of the older texts kept here were copies of those belonging to Nohr and Hoshido. Even so, it'll take decades for the scribes to make new copies of all of them."

Morgan fidgeted guiltily. "I'm sorry, Princess," she said.

"Don't be," Claire replied softly. "This was our own doing. We willfully invite trouble into our kingdoms, time and time again, hoping to share the peace we've found with the rest of the world. For that, our people suffer. This is the price of our hubris."

"It's not hubris," Inigo disagreed quietly.

Claire turned to stare quizzically at Inigo.

Inigo's gaze swept across the city, one that he had known once, but had changed so very much in his seemingly brief absence. Though he tried to remain stoic, he couldn't quite hide the nostalgia in his eyes. There was something else, too, Morgan thought.

"Regret?" Morgan whispered to herself.

"You've been to the Scarlet Museum yourself, haven't you?" Inigo asked Claire pointedly. "How many people willingly gave their lives, believing peace to be worth any price?

"Many, but it is that very peace that we, in our arrogance, put at risk," Claire argued. "And to what end? To create more enemies? The wars beyond our lands have raged on for longer than anyone can remember, and show no sign of ending. Our peace is an anomaly – a miraculous gift we've taken for granted."

Inigo paused for a moment to gather his thoughts. "I heard a story once, the last time I visited Nohr," he began gravely. "Supposedly, even after the Nohr-Hoshido War came to an end, there were many on both sides who wished to fight on, unsatisfied with the armistice between their kingdoms."

"I have heard the same," Claire said, nodding slowly.

"There were other heroes from the war, too," Inigo went on. "Heroes who fell in the battles to come, whose names have been forgotten by history. Heroes whose likenesses do not appear beside their comrades' in the museum. While their friends and families grieved and despaired, wondering if peace would ever come, they themselves never doubted it. They died smiling, confident that their deaths would be worth it in the end."

"That doesn't seem possible," Claire said, frowning. "They say the Scarlet Museum was built while King Corrin still lived, and that he was determined to honor each and every man and woman who ever fought beside him."

"The war was so long ago. Who can really know for sure?" Inigo asked, shrugging. "It's just a story. But if it was true, they were right to keep believing, weren't they?" He fell silent after that, letting the story end on that solemn note.

Claire had nothing more to say either, so it seemed. A few minutes passed, and the flames began to ebb. Then several of the Nohrian soldiers returned, accompanied by a number of city guards. "The streets around the archive have been cleared, milady," one of the soldiers reported.

"We've evacuated the civilians living closest to the Yato Archive. It seems we have no choice but to allow the flame to burn out on its own," one of the city guards added. His uniform seemed more decorated than those of his companions.

"I thought as much," Claire said. "With your permission, Captain, my soldiers and I would like to join with your patrols until we're certain that the vandals are truly gone."

"T-truly? Are you certain, Princess?" the guard captain stammered. "Your quarters in the castle have been prepared and await your arrival. Besides, the king and queen were expecting you to join them for this evening's meal."

"We will stay and assist the guards. Excepting, of course, your personal guard," one of Claire's soldiers offered.

Claire sighed, then nodded. "Very well, then," she gave in.

* * *

Morgan sidled closer to Inigo, lowering her voice to a whisper so that Helios and Crescent wouldn't overhear them. "Someone was missing from the memorial in the museum," she guessed.

"It was only a story," Inigo said, rather unconvincingly.

"Soleil's mother wasn't there, was she?" Morgan pointed out.

Inigo shook his head. "She was a princess," he replied. "Her statue should be in the Central Wing, along with her brothers and sisters."

"Then yours should've been beside hers," Morgan reasoned.

Inigo sighed. "She never would've wanted a statue," he explained. "Lord Corrin would have known that."

But Inigo had hoped to see such a statue anyways, Morgan realized. She began pacing about idly as she considered her sister's dour mood after their tour of the museum. She had agreed to the visit in hopes of lifting Sagi's spirits, but the tour had had the opposite effect on both Severa and Inigo. Coupled with the Yato Archive's grim demise, it seemed like a complete disaster.

Morgan stopped pacing when a gentle hand clapped down onto her shoulder. She looked up to see Helios standing beside her.

"Let's head back to the inn, Morgan," Helios suggested.

"Yeah. Okay," Morgan said. She looked around and saw the rest of their companions slowly making their way over. "Actually, Sis will probably insist on us finding a proper meal, first," she mused. "She keeps insisting that I'm not eating enough."

"We could eat at the inn," Helios reminded.

"I don't think our inn serves any food," Morgan said, straining to remember the small inn's layout. The common room had appeared quite sparse, as if guests rarely remained there for more than a few minutes.

"Then I'll go find a tavern serving dinner and bring our meal back to the inn. You and the others head back first," Helios offered. "You too, Cress."

"Alright," Crescent agreed readily.

As distracted as Morgan was, that short exchanged rang discordantly in her mind. "Aren't you going with him, Cress?" she asked, surprised.

"He'll be fine on his own," Crescent replied. Her tone was shockingly flippant, considering what had transpired within the Yato Archive. "Just keep your weapons out of sight, Hel. There may be more of those marauders about."

"Duly noted," Helios said dryly, tucking his sheathed swords further within his dark cloak.

Morgan stared at the young couple, bewildered. Their casual banter seemed innocent enough, but terribly out of place. Surely, they must have known that their attackers weren't thugs hoping to steal their weapons. Something else must have provoked the attack.

Something neither of them wanted to talk about out in the open. Morgan smiled as she caught on. "Alright. Thanks, Hel," she agreed, her hopes rising.

Helios returned Morgan's smile, then waved and set off. Moments later, the rest of Morgan's companions caught up to her.

"Where's he headed?" Severa asked worriedly.

"He said he'd find us something to eat," Morgan answered truthfully. "Let's head on back to the inn, first. The rest of those vandals are still out wandering the city, remember?"

"All the more reason for us to remain together," Yashiro said uncomfortably.

"Don't worry about Hel," Morgan said insistently. "He won't be gone long."

"But…" Lucina began to protest.

Realizing they were getting nowhere, Morgan began striding purposefully towards the inn, leaving the others no choice but to follow.


	11. Chapter 9: Oblivescence

**~ Chapter 9 ~**

 **Oblivescence**

Upon returning to the inn, everyone squeezed into a single room again. It proved a bit easier now that Sagi was awake. More than half of them sat down around the edges of the bed, while the rest gathered around it.

"What's this all about, Morgan?" Severa scowled, understanding that something was afoot.

Instead of answering, Morgan busied herself with stuffing one quilt beneath the doorway. She then draped a second quilt over the wooden shutters, dimming the room. Satisfied that she had soundproofed the room as best she could, she turned to Crescent expectantly. "Alright, Cress. What really happened back at the library?" she asked.

Crescent reached into her cloak and produced a roll of worn parchment. "We were going through some old drawings when I found this. I was in the middle of showing this to Hel when those mercenaries approached us," she explained.

Sagi gaped at the parchment. "You stole this from the Yato Archive!?" he asked, aghast.

"Should I have left it behind?" Crescent asked simply.

Sagi had no answer to that sobering retort.

Crescent shrugged apologetically, then knelt down upon the bed, squeezing between Severa and Inigo. She gingerly unfurled the scroll, laying it down upon the bed for everyone to see. "We only saw two of the mercenaries, at first," she explained. "Something about them didn't seem right. Once they noticed Hel and I poring over this painting together, they started heading over towards us."

"Did they say anything?" Lucina asked.

Crescent shook her head. "One of them seemed to be reaching for a sword, so we took the painting and fled. That's when they started flinging those flasks of burning lamp oil everywhere."

"They weren't marauders," Morgan explained kindly, addressing Sagi's many unspoken questions. "They're mercenaries from our world. They're also hunting for the staff."

"I see," Sagi said, seeming to be at a bit of a loss.

Morgan moved to examine the painting herself, only to find that she was too late. The others had already huddled around the bed, fully blocking her view. "Sis, what is it?" she demanded, poking her sister impatiently.

Severa reached out and scooped up the painting, then held it up high. She didn't angle it towards Morgan, however. Instead, she turned and presented it to Sagi. "Sagi, have you seen this painting before?"

Morgan pushed her way over to stand beside Sagi, leaning against his shoulder so that she could see the painting, too. The painting was drawn in thin lines of black ink. The parchment was weathered and unremarkable. Despite the scroll's obvious age, it seemed to be in good condition, and the drawing upon it was exquisitely detailed. It depicted a young man with a kind face and regal bearing. He stood at the lip of a canyon, gazing into the horizon, into the rising – or perhaps setting – sun. He carried an ornate, ceremonial sword in one hand, and a beautiful winged staff in the other.

"There's a painting like this in the Central Wing of the museum," Sagi said thoughtfully. "I think it's meant to be…"

"King Corrin, standing over the Bottomless Canyon," Severa interrupted. "Yato in one hand, the Bifrost Staff in the other."

"That's the Bifrost Staff?" Morgan asked, gaping at the drawing.

"That's what we were afraid of," Crescent nodded. "We knew it was King Corrin. There were several other paintings of him in the library. It seemed like too much of a coincidence that this one showed him holding a staff."

"But the painting in the museum doesn't show a staff," Sagi said. "It looks just like this one – same pose, same setting, even the sword – but it's in color, and King Corrin is holding a flower instead of that staff. It's said to be King Corrin just before he leapt into the canyon, bearing a flower for loved ones lost. Many artists look to older artworks for inspiration; this could very well be the original painting."

"It could also be a coincidence," Yashiro suggested. "Or perhaps the true meaning of the painting has been lost over the years."

A few minutes passed in silence. Everyone seemed deep in thought. Morgan pulled away from Sagi and began pacing about in the little space that she had, a thoughtful frown upon her face. It could've been a coincidence, as Yashiro said, but it seemed like too much of one to ignore.

Morgan suddenly stopped and turned to Sagi. "Sagi, you said that no one was ever able to retrieve King Corrin's sword, right?" she asked. "Has anyone tried searching for it elsewhere? Somewhere other than the Bottomless Canyon?"

"Yeah. Loads of people," Sagi said. "Yato is a legend in its own right. It was forged by the ancient dragons, so say the stories. Even today, there are still treasure hunters searching for it. They scavenge through crumbling ruins, try to salvage shipwrecks from the bottom of the sea, and comb through ancient texts, all while searching for any trace of Yato."

"But no one's found it so far, and no one's ever made it down to the bottom of the Bottomless Canyon," Morgan said.

"Nope. Some scholars have tried to measure how deep it is, without any luck. They send their best climbers, but no matter how far they rappel down into the canyon, it always seems to reach even deeper," Sagi said.

"Then it's quite possible that the sword – and the staff – are down there somewhere," Lucina said.

"But why would King Corrin have taken the staff with him?" Morgan wondered.

"He had gone mad, remember? That's why he jumped in the first place," Sagi said with a shrug. "Guess it doesn't really matter now. Even if anyone does make it down to the bottom of the canyon, the sword – and the staff, if it's there – are probably buried beneath millions of talismans by now."

"Talismans?" Morgan asked. She glanced at her sister, then Inigo. Both of them seemed equally confused.

"The ones from the Sky Festival, of course," Sagi answered. He realized his mistake almost immediately, and clapped one hand to his forehead. "Oh, that's right! None of you have ever seen the Sky Festival before."

"What Sky Festival?" Morgan prompted impatiently.

"You know all about the sky changing, right? At the dawn of each decade, the skies of Hoshido gradually grow darker, while the skies in Nohr slowly brighten," Sagi explained. "Then, for about an hour, the skies of Hoshido become darker than the darkest night, while the sun shines brightly over Nohr.

"People from all over New Valla gather here in Yato throughout the month. Then, just before the skies change, they gather beside the Bottomless Canyon. When the hour arrives, we cast our talismans into the canyon – strips of decorative paper inscribed with cheerful words: prosperity, happiness, serenity, things like that."

Morgan frowned. "That seems like an odd tradition," she said.

"Sagi, were the skies changing when King Corrin leapt into the canyon?" Severa guessed.

Sagi looked to Severa in surprise. "How did you know that?" he asked.

"Lucky guess," Severa said. When neither Morgan nor Sagi seemed convinced, she pointed at the painting lying on the bed and added, "That's the sun is rising over Nohr, isn't it?"

"Is it?" Sagi asked, frowning.

"I thought so," Severa shrugged. "Say, when are the skies changing next?"

"In a few weeks," Sagi said, now staring at the painting curiously. "The day after the Melee ends, Hoshido's skies will begin dimming."

"And the Sky Festival will be a month after that?" Morgan asked.

"Roughly," Sagi confirmed. He looked up from the painting, towards Morgan. "If you're planning to stick around for the festival, we should go together. The street vendors should begin selling talismans soon. Right after the Melee ends, actually."

"Maybe. It sounds like it'd be fun," Morgan said noncommittally. As intriguing as the Sky Festival sounded, she remained mindful of her promise to her father. "We were hoping to find the staff long before that, though."

"Right. Well, if it's really lying at the bottom of the canyon, there's no reason to worry about it falling into the wrong hands. Neither you nor anyone else is retrieving it anytime soon," Sagi said.

Morgan remained skeptical. "How far is the canyon from here?" she asked.

"Not far. The canyon runs straight through the city, and directly beneath the castle," Sagi said.

Inigo nodded in recognition. "Lord Corrin used dragon veins to create a series of bridges leading across the canyon," he explained. "Castle Yato – the castle, that is, not the city – was built upon the largest of those bridges."

"Then, the bridges really were created from dragon veins?" Sagi asked.

"As far as I know," Inigo said.

"I see," Sagi said thoughtfully. "Well, it was from another of the bridges that the legends claim he leapt from. It's a bit sad, when you think about it."

There was a loud knock on the door. Everyone immediately fell silent as Morgan removed the quilt she had placed beneath the door. When she peeked outside, she found Helios waiting with a large picnic hamper laden with food.

"Everything sorted out?" Helios asked.

"If only," Morgan lamented, beckoning her friend inside.

* * *

The small bedroom was far too small for everyone to spread out and dine comfortably. After a brief discussion, everyone retired to their rooms with their meals instead. Once they were alone in their own room, Morgan and Crescent began explaining everything to Helios as they ate.

When they had finished their story, Helios chuckled grimly. "This is getting more and more puzzling with each passing day," he lamented.

"It's pretty strange," Crescent agreed. "Just how deep does this canyon run? If everyone's convinced that King Corrin's sword is down there, surely someone would've found a way to reach it by now."

"Hang on. Morgan, can't we just use warp powder to reach the canyon floor?" Helios asked.

Morgan shook her head violently. "You have to be able to visualize your destination to use warp powder," she explained. "Since we don't know how deep the canyon goes or what the bottom looks like, it probably won't work at all."

"Or we'd appear way too high and fall," Crescent pointed out.

"Or that," Morgan agreed.

"Alright, bad idea," Helios admitted with a grimace. "Why don't we fly, then? We could try to borrow a Pegasus from someone."

"Someone's surely tried that by now," Crescent argued.

After a long, silent pause, Morgan shook her head in frustration. "This makes no sense," she said. "It's like Cress said – no matter how deep this canyon goes, someone should've found a way to reach the bottom by now."

"Could the canyon really be bottomless?" Helios suggested, sounding doubtful.

"I don't know," Morgan said. "It seems impossible. Then again, a staff that brings people back to life seems impossible, too. When there could be magic involved, who can really know?"

"Maybe there's someone we could ask," Crescent said. "Didn't Inigo mention that one of the Nohrian princes was studying the mysteries of this world? He may have written about the canyon in his notes, or perhaps a book."

"As long as those notes weren't being kept in the Yato Archive," Helios reminded grimly.

"We could visit Nohr," Morgan said halfheartedly. Then another thought occurred to her. "Actually, earlier, Sis mentioned a sorceress who was being kept alive by some sort of curse. If she's still alive, she might be able to tell us more about the canyon."

Crescent frowned. "Speaking of your sister," she began cautiously. "Morgan, didn't you find it a bit odd that Severa knew the Sky Festival was somehow related to King Corrin?"

"A little bit," Morgan admitted.

"Is it possible that she knows something about the canyon that she's not telling us?" Crescent asked, trying her best to keep her tone neutral.

Morgan winced. "I guess," she mumbled. "Sis's diary mentioned the Bottomless Canyon a few times, but she didn't say what it was, or even why they were there."

"What sort of things did she write about, then?" Crescent asked. As soon as the words left her lips, she blushed, suddenly feeling guilty for prying.

"Not much," Morgan admitted, seemingly unbothered. "She wrote a bit about the friends she had met here. We saw some of those people in the museum. She also wrote about being worried for Owain and Inigo; it sounds like they were separated at one point, but she didn't explain why."

"She was writing for herself, wasn't she? She had no reason to explain anything," Helios said.

Unabashed, Morgan only rolled her eyes.

"Let me see your diary, then," Helios suggested with a slight smirk.

"I don't have one," Morgan said, sticking her tongue out at him. As she did, however, Yuelle emerged from her hood and began flapping her wings animatedly.

"You just tell Yuelle everything, instead of writing it down," Helios realized. He grinned. "Feel like sharing?" he asked the small, silvery butterfly.

"Don't you dare," Morgan said, scowling at Yuelle, who answered with a series of amused clicks.

"Morgan, I think you should try to ask Severa what else she knows about the Bottomless Canyon," Crescent suggested, her mind still focused on their predicament. "She might know something that she wasn't comfortable saying in front of everyone. Why not speak with her tomorrow morning, while she and Owain are alone?"

"That's an idea," Morgan mumbled. Then her eyes lit up. "I could also go ask her right now," she said, hopping to her feet. "I'll be right back!"

Morgan raced to the door, pausing only just long enough for Yuelle to catch up, then padded softly down the hallway towards her sister's room.

* * *

Severa stared listlessly through her bedroom's only windows. She sat upon the bed with her legs dangling over the side. A platter of food rested upon her lap. Every now and then, the troubled woman would idly push and prod her food around the plate; she had never grown accustomed to the thin bamboo sticks the Hoshidans used as eating utensils.

Owain watched silently for some time, torn between amusement and worry. Between her absent expression, contemplative posture, and complete disinterest in her meal, Severa seemed to be doing her best impression of her youngest sister. Owain new better than to voice that particular observation aloud, though. "What's wrong, Severa?" he asked instead.

Severa shook her head slightly. "It's nothing," she sighed.

"Are you worried about Ophelia?" Owain pressed, undeterred. He hadn't expected an answer on his first attempt, anyways.

"No. I'm sure Ophelia's fine."

"Then what is it?"

An awkward silence followed. It seemed to stretch on for an eternity. Finally, right when Owain was about to try again, Severa spoke.

"They never forgot us, did they?"

"They?" Owain asked, puzzled.

"We promised we'd return. We said we'd find time to visit them," Severa continued. "And they smiled and said goodbye. They went on with their lives. They married, had kids, grew old… and all throughout, they kept waiting for us. They remembered us."

"Severa, we knew when we left that we probably wouldn't be able to return," Owain reminded her gently. "I'm sure they knew the truth, too. We all hoped that we'd meet again, but we all knew that it wasn't likely to happen, too."

"But those statutes, Owain… how long had it been? Ten years? Twenty? Longer? Even after all that time, they were still thinking of us."

Owain wrapped one arm comfortingly around Severa's waist, pulling her in to lean against his shoulder. "Maybe, but they still went on with their lives. We'll do the same thing. Twenty years from now, you and I will still remember them, too."

"We shouldn't be here," Severa murmured. "We don't belong here. Not anymore."

Owain smiled sadly. The same thought had crossed his mind when he read his own epitaph, despite his good humor. It was strangely surreal, a humbling reminder of how much time had passed and what they had left behind.

"We shouldn't have come back," Severa continued. She seemed to be rambling, now, unable to restrain her doubts any longer. "This isn't our place anymore. We should return home, while we still have a home to return to. We should be with our families. With Ophelia."

"We will," Owain promised soothingly. "We know what happened to the staff. It won't be long now."

Severa pulled away abruptly, straightening and wiping away her tears. "We're wasting our time, Owain," she said flatly.

"How so?"

"You know where Lord Corrin took the staff. The staff's gone."

"We don't know that it's gone. We still don't know why he took the staff with him. His friends and family were all here, in Yato."

Severa shook her head, frustrated, her hair flying about wildly. "It doesn't matter. Even if the staff's still around, no one's going to find it," she insisted.

Owain hesitated. He was inclined to agree with Severa; the staff really did seem out of reach, especially considering how much of New Valla's history had been lost. The day's events gnawed at him, however. Though he couldn't quite place it, he had a vague feeling that their predicament wasn't completely settled. Also, a part of him yearned to follow the staff a little further. At least one question still burned in his mind, but it seemed now that his wife feared the answer.

"What do we tell Morgan?" Owain asked.

Severa had no answer to that. She closed her eyes instead, leaning in closer to Owain, hoping that an answer would magically spring to her mind. When no answer came to her, she held that pose silently, waiting and wondering.

* * *

For a short while longer, Morgan pressed herself tightly against the door to Severa and Owain's room, straining to hear her sister's response. When it became obvious that Severa was not about to answer – or at least, not loudly enough to be overheard – Morgan finally gave up. She briefly considered knocking on the door and confronting her sister directly. That prospect did not seem too promising, though, given the bits and pieces of the conversation she had overheard.

With a quiet sight, Morgan slumped softly to the ground, lying against the doorway. "Why won't you talk to me," she muttered. As she voiced her frustrations aloud, she reconsidered all the secrets she herself was keeping. It was a troubling thought that had been occupying her mind for some time, now, and still, she had no answer.

The seconds dragged on, becoming minutes. A small silver glint caught Morgan's attention, and she looked down to find Yuelle sitting on the back of her hand, flapping her wings lazily. The sight brought a faint smile to Morgan's face. "Thanks, Ellie," she whispered, before noiselessly tiptoeing back to her room.

* * *

The following morning, Morgan was again the first to awaken. Careful not to disturb Helios or Crescent, she gathered her belongings and slipped out of the room. She didn't go far, though; knowing that the Valmese mercenaries had likely regrouped by now, she decided not to leave the inn at all. Instead, she found herself a comfortable seat in the inn's modest common room.

Morgan did not have to wait for long. Scarcely fifteen minutes later, Soleil appeared at the foot of the staircase. Her hair was neatly groomed, as usual. She had cleaned most of the dirt and grime from her armor, too, though it still seemed a bit worse for wear.

"Good morning, Soleil," Morgan greeted.

Soleil glanced briefly Morgan's way, but did not stop walking towards the door. "Hi."

Taken aback by the inattentive greeting, Morgan was a bit slow to respond. "Hey, wait! Where are you going?" she called.

"Oh, just outside for a walk."

"I'll come with you," Morgan offered quickly, leaping to her feet.

"Sure." Soleil paused by the doorway until Morgan caught up, then continued on with the same distracted look upon her face.

* * *

For a time, Morgan and Soleil walked in silence. The streets of Castle Yato were ominously quiet; the attack upon the Yato Archive had left a dreary pall hanging over the town. At first, Morgan kept one hand resting upon her tome, but she soon became more worried for her companion.

Soleil, upon noticing Morgan's concerned look, flashed the younger girl a sheepish smile; she wasn't quite as oblivious as she looked, after all. "Don't worry, Morgan. I just needed some time to think. Sorry for being a bit of a bore," she apologized.

"No worries," Morgan said, though she continued staring curiously at Soleil. The older girl had an unnaturally solemn air about her, quite a departure from her normal playful and carefree self. "It's just weird seeing you so serious."

"Is it? That's good," Soleil mumbled.

"It is?"

"Always keep on smiling," Soleil recited. "That's what Dad taught me. I had been arguing with my little brother. It was a really stupid argument, too. He was in the garden, playing with some bunnies, but they all fled when I tried to pet one. I left, and ran into Dad in the training yard. I told him I wanted to train with him, and I was terrible at that, too. And that's when he told me: always keep on smiling, and everything would seem just a bit brighter that way. I guess it's become a bit of a habit."

"I see," Morgan said thoughtfully. "Your Dad doesn't seem to smile that often, though."

"I know," Soleil said tiredly. "Ever since the day Mom died, he hasn't been the same. He kept on smiling at first, but it was a fake smile, one he put on to show my brother and me that everything would be okay. Nowadays, he just looks tired all the time."

They reached the end of the block. More people were out on the streets now, but with the tattered remains of the Yato Archive looming ahead, the city seemed even more forlorn now. "We should probably head back to the inn and see if the others are awake," Morgan suggested.

"Yeah, you're right," Soleil said. The two of them began making their way back towards the inn. "Say, Morgan, how did you meet Ellie? That's her name, right?"

"Her name's Yuelle, but I've always just called her Ellie," Morgan answered cheerily. "She's been my best friend for years."

"What is she, though?" Soleil asked curiously.

"She's a person. What else could she be?" Morgan said, sounding annoyed. She extended one arm and held her palm upward. Yuelle promptly flitted forward to land gently upon Morgan's hand.

Soleil stared in bewilderment. "Well, she…" she began. She stopped, catching herself only just in time. "You're very pretty, Yuelle."

Yuelle flapped her wings lazily, brushing against Morgan's fingertips.

"She says thanks," Morgan translated. Her expression softened when she noticed Soleil's confused look. "About a few years ago, Ellie was badly hurt. This was all I could do for her, at the time."

"At the time?" Soleil asked, now more confused than ever. "What exactly did you do?"

"It's a bit of a long story. When we have the time, I'll tell you," Morgan promised.

The inn came into view up ahead. At that exact moment, Severa and Inigo emerged from the building. They spotted Morgan and Soleil right away and began waving.

"It looks like the others are awake. Some of them, anyways," Morgan said. "I guess it's time to decide where we're headed next."

* * *

The rest of their group was already gathered inside the inn's common room. Several of the inn's other guests had also gathered in the lobby, so there was little talk of their plans for the day beyond breakfast. They set out soon after, following Sagi to the nearest marketplace.

After a quick meal, Morgan began trying to guide her friends away the crowds. This proved quite challenging; by this time, the city had woken up in earnest, and every street seemed to bustle with activity.

"Looking for something?" Sagi asked, noticing Morgan's mounting frustration.

"Just someplace quiet where we can talk," Morgan said.

Sagi nodded. "Follow me, then," he said. He promptly led everyone back to the city's main road, then began following it eastward. Pushing through the crowd proved a tedious affair, and half an hour passed before they reached their destination: a wide canyon with steep, rocky cliff faces.

A massive stone bridge – over a hundred feet wide and spanning across the canyon – seemed to extend from the stony ground, as if it had grown quite naturally. A small, stalwart castle rested upon the bridge, suspended over the canyon. Iron rails lined the canyon's edges and the sides of each bridge. Further to the south, three similar, but narrower bridges could be seen.

"Is this the Bottomless Canyon?" Morgan asked, moving up to the wooden fencing that lined the edge of the canyon.

"Yeah. And Castle Yato," Sagi said, gesturing towards the castle as if he were afraid Morgan would somehow miss it. "Come on. The courtyard garden is open to visitors throughout the day."

* * *

The castle courtyard more closely resembled a forest than a true garden. Lush, verdant trees grew in thick, overgrown clusters. Any weeds had been carefully quelled, and asides from the dirt paths, the ground was hidden beneath a thick blanket of flowering bushes. Vividly colored blossoms of all shapes and sizes bloomed all around.

The dirt paths meandered randomly throughout the courtyard, seemingly without rhyme or reason. As Morgan followed Sagi through the labyrinthine garden, she spotted only a handful of other guests – a visiting family of five, a mother with her two young children, and an old man walking along slowly with the aid of a gnarled cane.

Sagi continued pushing deeper and deeper into the courtyard, until finally, they reached a quiet corner. A large gazebo stood at the center of an open field, offering a wide view of the surrounding overgrowth. "Will this work, Morgan?" he asked.

"It's perfect. Thanks," Morgan said.

"So, what's our next move?" Lucina asked.

Morgan turned to Severa. "Sis, could you tell us more about the friend you mentioned yesterday? The Nohrian sorceress?"

"Sorceress?" Inigo interrupted. He gave Severa an odd look. "Nyx?"

"What do you want to know about her, Morgan? And why?" Severa asked cautiously.

"Sagi, how long has it been since King Corrin leapt into the Bottomless Canyon?" Morgan asked, without answering her sister.

"I'm not really sure," Sagi said apologetically. "I've never been good with dates. Three, maybe four hundred years?"

"Three or four hundred years," Morgan echoed hollowly. "And people have been trying to find their way to the bottom of the canyon ever since, right?"

"Right."

"Then there likely isn't much they haven't tried," Morgan reasoned. "Climbing, flying, any sort of magic they have that might help… and no one's ever made it to the bottom. The canyon itself must be magical in some way." She looked at Severa challengingly, as if daring her sister to ague.

A long pause ensued. Finally, Severa nodded. "It is," she said quietly.

"What do you know, Sis?" Morgan asked.

"Not as much as you'd hope," Severa said, giving Owain and Inigo a pleading look. "Back during the Nohr-Hoshido War, we heard a few rumors about the canyon. We didn't really learn the details, but there are supposed to be trace of old magic all over the canyon."

"Keeping the bottom of the abyss far beyond our reach," Owain said. "And far beyond the reach of anyone else who would strive for the canyon's depths."

"They're right, Morgan," Inigo added, though there seemed to be a bit of hesitation in his voice. "The Bottomless Canyon was as much a mystery to the world then as it is now. If the staff truly went into the canyon with Lord Corrin, then it's gone forever. Our work here is done."

"Is there really no way to reach the bottom?" Morgan pressed.

"Not that we've heard of," Severa said. "And if, even after all this time, no one else has found a way, then there's no way a handful of Valmese mercenaries will."

"We should take care not to underestimate our enemy," Yashiro warned.

"We dealt with most of them yesterday. The rest were chased off by the Nohrians," Severa began to argue, though she paused when she saw Morgan shaking her head.

"I don't think it's that easy, Sis," Morgan said. "Our enemy managed to sneak dozens of armed mercenaries into the city unnoticed. Some of them may still be in the city. There's also that mage who attacked us inside the library. Also, I spotted someone leaping from the second story window just before I went aside. Whoever it was fled long before the Nohrians arrived."

"Our enemies seem to be at least a few steps ahead of us," Helios agreed. "Yesterday, they seemed to know immediately when Cress stumbled across that painting."

"That, or you two were unlucky," Severa suggested, though she sounded less uncertain now.

An awkward silence followed as Morgan carefully studied her sister, Owain, and Inigo. Their expressions remained perfectly inscrutable.

"So, what's this about a sorceress?" Helios interrupted suddenly.

"Yesterday, Sis mentioned a Nohrian sorceress who's under some sort of curse," Morgan explained.

"You mean the Clairvoyant?" Sagi asked. When his remark was met by confused looks from all around, he hastened to explain. "There are many songs about a fortune teller who wanders the Cascade Forest. She looks like a young woman, but has dwelled in the forest for centuries. She surfaces only to tell travelers their fortunes, or to offer them small blessings. She's supposed to be the ghost of an evil Nohrian sorceress, cursed to wander the world and unable to pass on until she has atoned for her long-forgotten sins."

"What's this sorceress's name?" Inigo asked, tensing up. Unlike Severa, he had not considered the possibility that any of their old companions could still be alive.

"I have no idea," Sagi said. "I didn't even know she had a name. To be quite honest, I thought the entire story was only a myth."

"Do you think you know these songs well enough that you could help us find her?" Morgan asked.

"I don't know. Possibly?" Sagi said. "We could just follow the Thread back to the west. There's a number of villages near where we first met. The locals there would know more, I imagine."

"That sounds promising," Morgan said, eyeing Severa closely.

"Yeah, it does, actually," Severa said, to Morgan's great surprise. "If it's really Nyx, she'd know more than just about anyone."

Morgan studied her sister closely. Severa's words seemed insincere for some reason, but try as she might, the young tactician couldn't read her sister's intent. "Well, I guess it's decided, then," she finally announced.

"Back to the forest," Sagi agreed cheerfully.


	12. Chapter 10: Raging Dark Winds

**~ Chapter 10 ~**

 **Raging Dark Winds**

Before leaving Castle Yato, Morgan and her companions made a quick stop by the general store to replenish their supplies. The shopkeeper was quite surprised to see them, and even offered a friendly warning as they left. "Careful out there. These lands will be crawling with marauders for a few weeks to come. Stick to the Thread, and don't go wandering off, you hear?"

Morgan nodded politely in thanks. Then, as soon as they were out of sight, she looked at Sagi speculatively. "You must've been warned about the marauders before leaving the city," she commented.

"A few times," Sagi said. "Why?"

"How come you were so far away from the road, then?"

"I figured they wouldn't attack me. I don't carry a weapon, unless you count my yumi, but I had long since run out of arrows. I would've given them the yumi if they had asked for it."

"Did they?"

Sagi blushed. "No. When I heard someone wandering nearby, I panicked and hid," he admitted.

They arrived at the city's western gate and found a score of guards standing watch over it. There were a line of travelers waiting to enter the city. Thankfully, the guards did not seem overly concerned with those leaving the city. Morgan received a few odd stares as she led her friends through the gate and out of the city, but none of the guards tried to stop her.

As they meandered past the line of waiting visitors, Morgan found herself thinking about the attackers again. The city's security was mildly unsettling – the Valmese mercenaries had managed to slip into the city undetected before. The added guards might have been enough to keep any more mercenaries from entering the city, but it wouldn't stop them from leaving. Furthermore, Morgan wasn't entirely certain the mercenaries had entered through the gates to begin with.

"Maybe I should've said something to Princess Claire," Morgan mumbled.

"What was that?" Sagi asked.

"Oh, nothing. I'm just thinking to myself," Morgan said. She then remembered a question that had been burning in her mind for some time. Since they had only just left the line of visitors behind them, she sidled closer to Sagi to keep from being overheard. "Sagi, why does everyone keep calling this road a thread?"

"That's just what it's called," Sagi replied. "It's the thread that ties New Valla together. It runs all the way from Castle Shirasagi to Castle Krakenburg. Those are the capitals of Hoshido and Nohr, by the way."

"Thanks," Morgan said thoughtfully. She remembered hearing both names before, but it was a welcome change from Sagi rattling off unfamiliar names without any explanation. "By the way, are there any wyverns in Castle Shirasagi?"

Sagi appeared quite taken aback by the question. "Uh… not that I know of. Why?"

"Just curious," Morgan said quickly. She gave Sagi a scrutinizing look, then smiled impishly. "Say, what's Castle Shirasagi like?"

"Oh, you'd love it," Sagi promised. "It's beautiful. About the same size as Castle Yato, I think. There's a garden there much like the courtyard in Castle Yato. According to the stories, Castle Yato was built to resemble the Nohrian castle that King Corrin grew up in. King Corrin had visited Hoshido briefly during the war, though. He loved the garden so much that he insisted upon the courtyard in Castle Yato being filled with flowers and trees. The flowers here are different, though; the flowers of Hoshido are too frail to grow around here."

"It sounds like you miss Hoshido," Morgan commented sympathetically. "How long did you spend there the last time you visited?"

"Visited?" Sagi echoed, confused. He suddenly grew flustered. "Oh, uh… two weeks."

"Only?"

"It might've been three. Or four."

Morgan grinned knowingly. She dropped the matter, though, deciding not to torment her friend any longer. "So, this road runs all the way across the continent, huh?"

"Yep! Neat, isn't it?" Sagi said, visibly relieved by the change in subject. "They say it was Queen Hinoka's first achievement as her brother's successor. She missed King Corrin dearly, which led her to begin building a road from Castle Shirasagi to Castle Yato. Then, remembering the Nohrian friends she had made during the war, she sent word to King Xander the First. King Xander soon started building from Castle Krakenburg. They meant for their roads to meet at Castle Yato, but when King Corrin learned of their efforts, he began building outward."

"Are there any other bridges like the Foamtide Bridge?"

"Not really. But there's plenty of other sights to see along the Thread, especially in Hoshido. You'd like Kessho Falls, I think. There's this small mountain range just south of the Thread in Hoshido with a dozen waterfalls feeding the river below. Up in the mountains, there are hundreds of springs that bring gemstones up from deep within the earth. You can just dive in and scoop them up."

"They're just lying at the bottom of a spring?" Morgan asked incredulously. Her expression became one of amazement when Sagi reached into his pocket and fished out a smooth, fist-sized crystal. The stone glistened brightly, catching the meager light of the sun. "You found that yourself?" she gasped.

"Nah, I didn't. One of my friends found this one. I found a piece of jade – a pretty, greenish sort of stone. When my friend saw it, she insisted we trade," Sagi explained.

"A friend, huh? And you've been carrying this stone ever since," Morgan teased.

"Yeah, I guess. It hasn't really been that long," Sagi said, shrugging.

"Really? Were you two traveling together recently?" Morgan asked.

"For a while. We were touring the Hoshidan countryside together. There was more that I wanted to see, though, so I wandered over towards Nohr. She probably went home," Sagi said. "At least, I hope she did," he added uneasily. He stared at the crystal broodingly for a few moments, then pocketed it. "Anyways, there's plenty of other places to see along the Thread, too. I'll show you some of them later, once your business with this staff thing is over with."

Again, the tempting offer was a mournful reminder to Morgan of her promise to her father. To her great frustration, the whole situation felt beyond her control; Severa seemed determined to lead her in circles until she was ready to give up.

"If we have time," Morgan agreed tentatively. She broke off the conversation there, distracted by thoughts involving her sister, and how many secrets she and her companions seemed to be keeping from one another.

* * *

As they marched along the Thread, traveling further and further from Yato, Owain spent the better part of the day trying to get Severa on her own. Unfortunately, Severa and Inigo had convinced Lucina to share her stories of the Shepherds' most recent escapades in Ylisse. Their conversation rolled on and on, seemingly without an end in sight.

Finally, just as the sun was beginning to set, there was a momentary lull in the conversation. Owain took his opportunity to cut in. "Severa, what are we going to do when we find Nyx?"

"If it's really her," Severa said, sounding unconvinced.

"Yes, if it truly is our long-last comrade, lingering far beyond her time," Owain agreed. "If it is her, what then?"

"We ask her to fill us in on everything that's happened, I suppose," Severa replied.

"And ask her about the staff, right?" Lucina reminded. Her eyes narrowed suspiciously when she saw Severa, Owain, and Inigo exchanging concerned looks. "What is it?"

"There's no reason to continue searching for the staff," Inigo finally admitted after a lengthy pause. "Severa's right. The staff's long gone."

"What do you mean?" Lucina asked.

"We know where the sacred relic lies, and for what purpose it was brought there," Owain said solemnly. "The artifact's power was likely spent centuries ago."

"Where is it, then?"

Severa, Owain, and Inigo paused again, glancing to one another awkwardly. "We can't say," Severa said evasively.

"Why not?" Lucina asked, bewildered.

"We can't answer that, either, I'm afraid," Inigo said, smiling weakly.

"Never mind why, Lucy," Severa insisted. "We can't explain how we know, but we do. The staff is gone, or, at the very least, it's completely out of our reach."

"And you're sure of this?" Lucina asked uncertainly.

"Positive," Severa said, as Owain and Inigo both nodded. "And if the Valmese can reach the staff where it lies, Emperor Walhart is the least of our problems. All we have to do is convince Morgan of it. Then we can all go home and put this behind us."

Lucina frowned. "You know your sister. She's the curious sort who'll never stop asking questions until she's found her answers," she warned. "She won't be easily convinced. In fact, I'm not even sure I'm convinced. You know you're not making much sense right now, right?"

"I know," Severa sighed.

"Will this Clairvoyant be able to tell us more? If she really is your friend, I mean," Lucina asked thoughtfully.

"Probably not," Severa admitted.

"In all likelihood, she'll tell us only what we already know," Inigo said. "She'll tell us the staff is truly gone. Maybe hearing it from someone else will be enough to convince Morgan."

Lucina gave Inigo an exasperated look.

"Maybe," Inigo repeated helplessly.

Severa sighed again. She knew Lucina was right. Such a flimsy explanation could never satisfy Morgan, regardless of who the messenger was, but she didn't know what else she could say or do. "We'll just have to keep trying," she said gloomily. "That, or borrow her sap, knock her out, and drag her home."

* * *

The Cascade Forest soon came into view, and not long after, the Thread crossed over a small creek and meandered by a small village. An old man was standing beside the creek, fishing rod in hand. A bucket partially filled with freshly caught fish rested at the man's feet. "Hail, travelers!" he greeted cheerily.

"Good evening," Sagi said politely.

"You folks headed for Nohr? Most are headed the other way, with the Melee and the Sky Festival coming up," the old fisherman said.

"We still have plenty of time, I reckon," Sagi shrugged. "Figured we'd see some of the sights around here." He made an exaggerated show of looking north towards the forest. "Is it true there are ghosts living in these forests?"

"Ghosts?" the fisherman frowned. "Whatever do you mean, lad?"

"In Yato, they sing songs of someone called the Clairvoyant," Sagi clarified. "A long dead sorceress who wanders the forest, trying to atone for her sins."

"Long dead? Hah! She looked lively enough last I saw her," the fisherman laughed.

"She's here?" Severa gasped.

The fisherman shook his head. " _Was_ here, about a week past," he corrected. "But if you folks are looking to have your fortunes told, you'd best save yourselves the bother. The Clairvoyant sees only those she wants to see, and is found only when she wants to be found."

Morgan considered the fisherman's words for a moment, then shrugged. "She sure sounds like a ghost to me," she commented. When the fisherman stared at her curiously, she shook her head quickly. "Never mind."

"If this Clairvoyant only sees who she wants to see, who was she looking for when she was last here?" Crescent asked.

The fisherman's cheery demeanor faded, to be replaced with a nervous look. "She wanted a word with the mayor, I heard. Said there's dangerous travelers headed our way, trouble following in their wake. You wouldn't happen to be the travelers she was speaking of, would you?" he asked. He chortled awkwardly, trying to hide his unease.

"I hope not," Crescent said, glancing down towards Morgan. Catching her gaze, Morgan only shrugged.

There was a brief flicker of movement from within the forest's long shadows. Morgan and Crescent turned in unison, the latter reaching for her bow.

"Morgan? What is it?" Severa asked, as she and the others looked on in confusion.

Morgan only continued staring beneath the forest's gnarled boughs. It could have been a wild animal, perhaps, but she had a feeling it was something more sinister. Silently, she mirrored Crescent's movement, reaching for her sword.

The forests came alive suddenly, becoming a wild flurry of motion as the Valmese mercenaries, realizing they had been spotted, emerged with their weapons drawn. They began to charge almost immediately, some towards the creek and the small bridge, others towards the village proper.

The fisherman gasped at the sight of the mercenaries, then yelped as Crescent fired a shining arrow past him. The gleaming projectile struck the nearest mercenary. A second arrow swiftly followed the first, and the first of the mercenaries crumpled with a pained yelp.

"Quickly, to the village," Morgan urged her companions, not wanting to be caught in the open, outnumbered as they were. She swept her sword out, sending forth a shockwave to stall the mercenaries further, then began racing towards the village.

* * *

The fighting had already reached the village's border. There were no guards to be seen, but several soldiers clad in Nohrian armor were standing in defensive formations, meeting the Valmese invaders head on. Some turned their attention towards Morgan and her companions as they neared, but most were too preoccupied to notice anything beyond their immediate foes.

"We don't have time, Morgan," Lucina said, placing a hand on the younger girl's shoulder. "We have to push the mercenaries back. Keep them outside the village, if we can."

Morgan nodded in agreement, and immediately began searching for a way around the Nohrian defenses. It wasn't difficult; Helios and Crescent had already chosen a route and taken off running, and Morgan immediately found three other paths that seemed to lead straight behind the Nohrians and into the city. It was not a comforting thought.

"Lucina and I can hold that road alone," Yashiro suggested, indicating one of the nearest entrances, then a group of mercenaries already heading that way.

Morgan quickly scanned the road Yashiro was gesturing towards. The buildings on both sides crowded closely inwards, making for a defensible chokepoint, but the village's layout was quite haphazard. If the Nohrian soldiers were to retreat, it would become far too easy for the Valmese to close in from both sides. "Sis, Owain, you to stay here with them. Try to keep an escape route clear just in case the mercenaries make it past the Nohrians," Morgan finally decided. "The rest of us will head into the village and try to close off the other entrances."

Severa looked around uneasily, not wanting to be separated from her sister with so many enemies lurking about. "I don't think that's safe, Morgan," she disagreed.

"Safer than letting the mercenaries surround us," Morgan countered. Then, looking to Inigo, Soleil, and Sagi, she added, "We'd better hurry. Sagi, stay close."

"You bet," Sagi agreed, looking about nervously. With that, the four of them set off into the village, chasing after their two companions who had gone on ahead.

* * *

Morgan winced when the northern edge of the village came into view. There was a fork ahead, and each of the dirt paths split again soon after. The buildings in this part of the village, too, were too far apart. The village had not been designed to hold off invaders; there were no walls or fortifications of any sort, and from where Morgan was standing, she could count at least six avenues leading in from the forest. Dozens of figures clad in gleaming crimson armor were already pouring into the village, seemingly from every direction at once.

There were no Nohrian soldiers in sight here. Instead, a dozen villagers were poised at one of the roads. They were armed only with crude logging axes and hunting knives. None of them appeared to have any fighting experience before, and they continued to exchange fearful glances, understanding their terrible predicament.

Not too far away, Helios and Crescent were crouched behind an old wagon. Morgan watched as Helios leapt from his hiding place, descending on a handful of unsuspecting mercenaries as they approached. At the same time, Crescent hopped up into the wagon, and upon finding her footing, began sending arrow after arrow down the same alleyway.

More mercenaries began to close in around the pair. "Behind you!" Morgan warned, hurling a blast of lightning to cut off the Valmese reinforcements.

Heeding Morgan's warning, Crescent spun around, stepping down from her perch and firing down the second road. Several of the mercenaries had already fallen, but Morgan knew her two friends couldn't hope to stem the tide for long. "Inigo, Soleil, help them hold that crossroad," Morgan instructed. "Sagi, find someplace safe and take cover."

"On it," Sagi replied, eyes wide with terror as he began scampering towards a nearby tavern.

"You got it," Soleil said eagerly. She immediately started running towards Helios, but was stopped by her father, who indicated an empty market booth resting nearby. Together, Inigo and Soleil raced to the booth, tipping it over to partially block off one of the roads.

Morgan's attention then returned to the villagers. She started running, but quickly realized the mercenaries would reach the villagers first. "Look out!" she cried, raising her tome instead.

The villagers cried out in surprise and threw themselves to the ground as Morgan unleashed another stream of crackling lightning. The spell soared forward, gliding over the villagers before arcing downwards. A thunderous crack split the air as lightning rained down upon the Valmese mercenaries.

When the blinding light cleared, Morgan found herself staring down a trio of Valmese archers, standing behind the prone forms of their fallen allies. She reflexively ducked, narrowly avoiding the first arrow, then began sprinting towards the nearest building to take cover behind one of the wooden beams. More arrows soared passed her, each only just missing her.

Just as Morgan reached the building, the barrage abruptly stopped. Then, only a brief moment later, agonized screams rang out. Her heart plummeting, Morgan peeked around the beam. Fallen villagers laid sprawled across the ground, motionless. Feathered arrows protruded from their limp forms, quivering ominously. The few survivors fled, abandoning their weapons and shouting out in terror.

Her eyes flashing angrily, Morgan leapt out into the open, brandishing her tome at the Valmese archers. The three mercenaries froze, gaping at the sight of a small, red-haired girl staring them down. Then they were flying through the air, twitching uncontrollably as magical lightning blasted them clean off the ground.

"A mage!" another mercenary, this one a swordsman, cried. He was the only enemy still standing that Morgan could see, and he charged alone, weaving left and right in anticipation of another magical assault.

Morgan stashed her tome in her robes, then drew her own sword. Bracing the hilt with both hands, she assumed a defensive posture, as if she were preparing to meet her opponent head on. The Valmese mercenary obliged her with a powerful downwards chop, grinning confidently.

At the very last second, Morgan stepped forward and to the left, closing too quickly for the mercenary swordsman to correct his aim. She drew her sword back in the same motion, then darted ahead with a fluid, powerful thrust of her sword. Alondite's keen silver point tore through the mercenary's armor with remarkable ease, and Morgan wrenched it out wide, tearing through her opponent's side.

Something slammed into Morgan's shoulder then, and a burning sensation shot through her arm. She nearly swooned in pain as she involuntarily retreated a step. Fighting off the sudden wave of nausea, she saw that one of the Valmese archers had gotten back onto his feet. Morgan dropped to a low crouch just in time to avoid a second arrow.

Realizing that she was in no shape to continue fighting, Morgan sheathed her sword clumsily. She dove into a roll, narrowly avoiding another arrow, then picked herself back up and began sprinting away.

* * *

"This looks bad," Lucina said worriedly. Several Valmese mercenaries had fallen at her feet, and many more were scattered a short distance away where they had succumbed to Yashiro's powerful fire magic.

Beside her, Yashiro seemed perfectly composed, an even expression on his face as he held his tome ready. "We can hold them for some time yet," he remarked, nodding briefly towards Severa and Owain.

"Why are they even here?" Severa grouched, wiping the blood from her lance on one of the fallen soldiers beside her. As Morgan had feared, several of the mercenaries had managed to squeeze past the Nohrian defenses. "This is a defenseless village out in the middle of nowhere!"

"I don't know," Lucina admitted. "But we don't have time for that now. Look: the Nohrians are falling back."

Behind them, the Nohrians did seem to be withdrawing further into the village. Their ranks seemed mostly intact, and they continued moving in an orderly fashion. Their leader was clearly visible now, for he wore no armor, and nothing else to mark him as a soldier of any sort. The unimposing, wiry man beckoned towards Severa, Owain, Lucina, and Yashiro.

"Cyrus," Severa muttered, recognizing Princess Claire's retainer. Then, almost involuntarily, she glanced past the Nohrian soldiers and towards the roads leading north. She felt a gentle tap on her shoulder, and turned to find Owain standing directly behind her.

"Go find her," Owain said softly. "We'll be fine."

Severa swallowed and nodded. "Thanks," she muttered. Gripping her lance tightly, she began racing towards the center of the village, ignoring the Nohrian soldiers altogether.

* * *

Once she was safely concealed behind the nearest building, Morgan paused to catch her breath. Then, clenching her jaw tightly, she grasped the arrow firmly with both hands.

"Morgan!" Sagi called, peeking through the nearby window.

Morgan flinched, unintentionally shifting the arrow. Another wave of pain shot through her arm, and she nearly doubled over in pain.

"You're hurt," Sagi said nervously.

"Well spotted," Morgan grumbled, rolling her eyes. She waited a few seconds for her arm to stop throbbing, then grasped the arrow again.

"Wait, shouldn't you…" Sagi tried to interrupt.

Ignoring Sagi, Morgan tugged sharply on the arrow and pulled it free. A short gasp of pain escaped her lips, and she dropped to one knee. "Sagi, your staff," she panted.

"My what?" Sagi asked blankly.

"Your staff. Rod. Whatever you want to call it," Morgan said in an impatient hiss.

"Oh, right!" Sagi said. "One moment." He disappeared from the window and began rummaging loudly through his belongings.

Morgan leaned against the wall wearily, barely managing to pull herself back onto her feet. Beginning to feel a bit lightheaded, she began clumsily pinching at the wound in hopes of staunching the bleeding.

Yuelle, who was perched gently atop Morgan's other shoulder, made a soft, clicking noise.

"I don't know if this is helping," Morgan admitted quietly. She and Yuelle remained still for several seconds longer. Then Morgan began to grow impatient. "Sagi, hurry!"

"I'm trying!" Sagi cried back, sounding frantic.

Morgan groaned and began reaching for her pack, thinking to lend her own staff to Sagi. She paused, however, when she spotted a small, cloaked, and hooded figure standing across the street. The figure appeared to be fleeing towards the center of the village, but paused periodically to glance backward.

Sagi reappeared in the window, beads of sweat all over his face. "I'm so sorry, Morgan, I don't know where it…" he began, but Morgan motioned for him to be quiet.

Morgan drew her tome once more, then carefully inched towards the corner of the building and peeked around, half-expecting to find more mercenaries chasing after the figure that had just run by. There was no one there, however. Puzzled, Morgan turned and watched as the small figure ran a bit further down the street before disappearing into a run-down building.

"What is it?" Sagi asked in a hushed tone.

"I'm not sure," Morgan said. "I'll be right back."

"But your arm…"

"Stay here!" Morgan insisted firmly. Then, disregarding Sagi's protests, she raced after the hooded figure.

* * *

Morgan cautiously pushed the wooden door ajar and peeked inside. The building appeared to be a small, disused temple. The lanterns along the wall were unlit. Meager beams of sunlight peeked through the torn rafters, casting a dim glow over the rows of worn wooden benches.

"Hello?" Morgan called out hesitantly.

The only answer was the shuffling of soft footsteps, and a slight creak in the old wooden floorboards.

Morgan crept into the room slowly, looking for any sign of the hooded figure from before. A sense of profound wrongness gnawed at her thoughts like a silent warning. She knew it wasn't safe for her to be alone, wounded, with so many enemies close by. Her rational mind was screaming at her to leave, that this venture was likely a waste of time – or worse, a trap.

But there had been something inexplicably familiar about the figure she had spotted…

With her tome still readied, Morgan continued moving towards the center of the temple. She stepped lightly, making as little noise as possible, and her eyes continued darting left and right.

A sudden flurry of movement drew Morgan's attention to the farthest corner of the room. The young tactician immediately spun around, leveling her tome towards the corner and preparing to cast.

The small figure Morgan had been pursuing detached herself from the shadows, apparently unconcerned with the tome pointed her way. She stepped out into the open, then reached up and drew back her hood, revealing her face.

Morgan's eyes went wide as she recognized the girl who had been waiting for her. Her arms slackened, and her tome dropped to the ground as she gaped at the figure. "W-what? But how?"

The other girl said nothing, and only continued to smile expectantly.

Question after question began whirling through Morgan's mind. Finally, though it took several seconds for her to process the bizarre scene before her, it all began to click. Her expression became one of dawning realization, then one of utmost horror.

"No," Morgan stammered feebly, taking a step back and shaking her head fervently. "No!"

The other girl's smile only widened.

* * *

Severa raced along the village's streets, heedless of her own safety. The battle seemed to be winding down, but Severa only vaguely noticed the fleeing Valmese mercenaries as she searched for her sister. "Damn it, Morgan! Where are you?" she whispered worriedly.

The road spilled out into a crossroad, and the knot in Severa's stomach tightened as she spotted the bodies sprawled all about her. Most wore Valmese armor, but there were a number of villagers strewn among them, too.

"Severa! Over here!"

At the sound of her name, Severa looked up to find Inigo and Soleil waving from a small alleyway across the crossroad. They were both covered in sweat, grime, and blood, but appeared uninjured.

Severa acknowledged Inigo and Soleil with a slight nod, then turned to continue her search. She spotted Helios and Crescent soon after, standing amidst nearly a dozen fallen mercenaries, then Sagi, who was peering out of a window and gesturing frantically with his rod.

Sagi's expression became one of relief as Severa stormed towards him. "Finally!" he said. "I've been…"

"Where's Morgan?" Severa interrupted sharply.

"She went into that building," Sagi said, indicating the temple. He seemed ready to say more, but Severa had already turned and started storming away, and was no longer listening. Sagi watched helplessly as Severa, too, approached the building alone.

Then, a few seconds later, when Severa was still more than a dozen paces from the temple's entrance, a rumbling roar shook the entire village. Vermillion gouts of flames violently burst through the temple's doorway, windows, and tattered rooftop. The flames spread rapidly, immolating the temple's weathered wooden frame, and began dancing ominously in the wind.

"What!?" Sagi gasped in horror.

Severa, too, looked up in shock, but unlike Sagi, she didn't stay petrified for long. As soon as she understood what she was seeing, she cast her lance aside. She charged into the burning building without the slightest trace of hesitation, screaming for her sister.


	13. Epilogue: As All Stars Fall

**~ Epilogue ~**

 **As All Stars Fall**

"Morgan! Where are you!?" Severa shouted.

The incessant crackling of the flames was enough to nearly drown out her voice. The inferno raged as brightly as a smith's furnace, filling the air with clouds of acrid, black smoke.

Shielding her eyes from the cinders, Severa stumbled clumsily over piles of burning debris. The disused temple was beginning to crumble. Pieces of the ceiling showered the red-haired lancer as she pushed deeper into the building.

The sweltering heat seemed ruthlessly overwhelming. Sweat trickled down Severa's face and into her eyes, blinding her and drawing forth tears. Temporarily disoriented, she took a deep breath, meaning to call for her sister once more. Instead, she inhaled a puff of the noxious smoke. Her words dissolved into a coughing fit, and she could only press onwards with a defiant growl.

Then, her vision miraculously cleared, and she found what she had been searching for. In spite of the blistering heat, Severa felt as if her insides had turned to ice. In front of her, no more than ten feet away, laid a pile of debris: a collapsed column beneath a mound of fallen boards and shingles from the collapsing roof. Barely visible beneath the heap was a tuft of vibrant red hair and Alondite's gleaming silver blade.

"No!" Severa shrieked. The world seemed to grow hazy once more. She lunged at the pile of rubble, grasping at the burning wood with her bare hands. Her mind hardly registered the searing pain as her hands began to char. "No, no, no, no!"

The debris refused to budge. Severa's voice faded into nothingness, but she continued her futile assault upon the blazing rubble. She could feel her body growing weak from exertion, and from the lack of air. Her hands, now covered in burns, were thoroughly numbed. Her movements became frantic. She began flailing at the stubborn debris, without rhyme or reason, until a damaged brick split and parted to either side. Severa reached deep into the pile, and her hand closed up something soft.

A hand. A motionless, human hand, smaller than hers and similarly covered in burns.

Some part of Severa's mind understood that the gap was far too small to be of any use, but she was far beyond the point of reason now. She squeezed her other hand into the opening and grasped her sister's arm tightly. She pulled and pulled, to no avail. She tried to scream out in protest, but her voice had been reduced to naught but incoherent whimpers.

The world seemed to be growing darker, as if it were warning her that time was running out. She did not budge. She clung on to her sister stubbornly, refusing to give in, as her little remaining strength dwindled.

Without warning, someone grasped Severa from behind, wrapping both arms around her. A floating sensation rushed through her as she felt herself being lifted upwards. She snapped one arm backward, feebly elbowing her assailant, but she could not find the strength to break the hold. She tried to cry out, but could not find her voice. She writhed and struggled, refusing to be pulled away from the debris.

Refusing to leave her youngest sister, who, at that instant, desperately needed her help.

There was a loud crack. One of the wooden boards had finally surrendered to the flames, splitting roughly down the middle. Blackened splinters scattered aside, allowing Severa a glimpse of Morgan's face.

The red-girl seemed so tiny at that instant. Her eyes were peacefully closed, and she wore a look of contentment, like a child recently tucked into bed by her loving parents.

Severa's lips opened and closed noiselessly. She had no breath left with which to give sound to her words. Her body went limp. That final image – Morgan's hauntingly serene expression – slowly faded into darkness.

* * *

With enormous difficulty, Helios managed to pry Severa's struggling form away from the heap of burning rubble. Most of his face was covered beneath his traveling cloak, a makeshift mask to ward off the smoke. He desperately wanted to say something to calm Severa, at least enough for him to drag her to safety, but his throat felt dry and constricted.

Tears streamed from Helios's eyes, leaving him partially blinded. They had little to do with the smoke, for Helios had seen what Severa had not: a large, thick splinter of wood, several feet in length, poised directly over where he imagined Morgan's chest would be.

"Severa," he rasped weakly. "We have to go."

Severa could not hear him, or perhaps his words simply hadn't registered. The panicking woman continued to struggle, making it impossible for Helios to maneuver her aside. Then came a deafening crash, as another part of the ceiling came apart. More burning fragments rained down atop the pile. A plank cracked and fell aside, revealing the child buried beneath the mess. At that moment, Severa stopped fighting back, and she crumpled into a lifeless heap.

Helios pulled Severa's prone form aside, then immediately raced to the pile of debris himself. He knew better than to try to move it – he could feel himself growing weaker with each passing second, and his time, too, was running short – but he couldn't bring himself to leave. Not yet.

Instead, Helios carefully took hold of the splinter he had noticed before. The splinter came free with surprising ease, and with that, Helios's worst fears were realized: the last three inches of the jagged wooden shard were stained a rich, crimson hue.

The dark-haired swordsman stared at the splinter in disbelief. It was everything he had feared, yet it still took several seconds for him to register what he was seeing. Then his arms tensed. He let out a feral, unearthly wail, and snapped the offending piece of wood cleanly in two. His swords danced forth from their sheaths, and he began hacking away furiously at the debris.

His savage dance continued for several long seconds, until his burst of anger was spent. His swords, now covered in scratches and burrs, slipped free from his grasp, clattering to the ground.

* * *

Just outside the burning temple, Crescent paced back and forth by the entrance, her entire body tense with fear and confusion. Helios had been gone for far too long, to her thinking, and her attempts to signal the others for help had all proven unsuccessful.

She was just on the verge of charging inside after her husband when she spotted a shape emerging from the blaze. It was Helios, staggering towards the doorway, Severa's unconscious form cradled in his arms.

"Hel!"

Crescent rushed forward to meet the pair. When she saw that Helios was on the verge of collapse, she hastily wrapped one arm around him and another beneath Severa, offering what support she could.

Then they were outside, and a safe distance away from the ruin. Crescent took firm hold of Severa and gently lowered the unconscious woman to the ground. Helios, relieved of his burden, collapsed to the ground. His head lolled to the side, and he stared blankly at the fire for a few seconds longer. He then shut his eyes, a minor act of defiance against the grim reality before him.

Trembling and fighting back tears of her own, Crescent drew her bow. Yet another shining arrow leapt into the air, scattering into a shower of sparks. Perhaps the others would see them and come, or perhaps her signal would go unnoticed yet again.

It mattered not, for it was far too late for any help to come.

Crescent sat down beside Helios, taking his hand in her own and gripping it tightly.

* * *

The village hardly stirred as dusk fell, and the dim Nohrian daylight faded from the sky. The corpses of villagers, Nohrian soldiers, and Valmese mercenaries laid where they fell, scattered throughout the deserted streets. The villagers had retreated to their homes, still in shock from the sudden loss and destruction. Their grieving had only just begun.

The Nohrian soldiers had retreated to just outside the village. Most of them were at rest, licking at their metaphorical wounds. A handful of them remained vigilant, pacing the perimeter of their encampment with their weapons close at hand.

Cyrus still looked to be as much an outsider as ever. His soldiers ignored him as they went their duties, and he ignored them, jabbing idly at the campfire with an iron poker, a pensive expression on his face. There was a great deal of work ahead of him. A number of tasks calling for his attention, but his thoughts didn't dwell on them for long. Their enemies – foreigners clad in fine crimson armor, ready to raze a village for no apparent reason – had left him with several unanswered questions, each more alarming than the last.

* * *

To the north of the village, nearly a quarter of a mile away, Lucina, Inigo, and Yashiro were gathered around a campfire, keeping stoic vigil over their riverside camp. Soleil sat beside her father, leaning against him, her face pale and expressionless. There was no sign of her normal cheery and spunky self. Sagi was lying on the ground close by, staring up into the gloomy sky, clutching his prized instrument close to his chest. The neglected campfire soon began to smolder, and the whimpering flames began flickering in the gentle breeze, yet no one so much as looked at the small stack of firewood resting nearby.

Their tents had been erected in a hurry. Most of them stood crookedly, but it hardly mattered, for all but one of them were empty. It seemed a mercy that Severa had yet to awaken. She slumbered quietly in her tent, motionless and lost in dreamless sleep, a temporary reprieve from what was to come. Owain had remained by her side for several hours, but was now seated on the ground just outside the tent. He stared vacantly out towards the forest, unable to find even the slightest pretense of optimism.

A short distance to the east, just beyond the campsite's edge, Helios and Crescent had perched themselves over the coursing river. Helios was leaning backwards on both arms, his singed palms digging deep into the sandy shoals as his feet dangled in the cool waters below. He had not spoken a single word since he first emerged from the temple cradling Severa's unconscious form. Even when the flames had finally died down, he had reentered the ruin without any explanation, his face devoid of emotion.

Crescent had hardly spoken, either: a few stammered words to the others approximating an explanation. Even now, she hardly trusted herself to speak, for it felt as if nothing she could say could possibly matter.

Resting on the grass beside the couple was all that Helios had managed to find among the ashes. His swords, little more than twisted shards of metal, disfigured beyond recognition. A pair of blackened, charred staves, brittle and cracked, spared only by the magical energies they contained. Alondite, its keen silver edge and ancient jeweled hilt unmarred by the seething flames.

And a crumpled amalgamation of melted silver and glittering gemstones, with a single pronounced edge vaguely resembling a butterfly's wing.

* * *

A lone figure stood tall upon a small hill, half a mile to the west of the battered village, far removed from the carnage in the streets. He was shaped like a man – a powerfully muscled man more than seven feet in height – but could hardly have been mistaken for one. He was dressed in a fine, black traveler's cloak, and what could be seen of his skin and flesh appeared to have been sculpted from the clearest crystal. Even the slightest of his motions captured trickles of the faint starlight from the overcast skies, sending fluid ripples through his translucent form.

He eyed the distant village and campsites disdainfully. "And still they drag their feet, wasting time we cannot spare," he scoffed derisively. His voice boomed powerfully, echoing with unearthly might, yet there was a curiously smooth, melodic quality that lingered, resonating through the air.

A softer voice cut sharply through his ruminations. "You're an idiot."

The crystalline creature turned to look over his shoulder. When he saw the speaker, his lips swirled, taking the shape of a wide, wicked smile. "Your tongue is as sharp as your wit, I see. You wound me so, my lady," he said mockingly.

"Good," the girl retorted bluntly, not sharing her companion's good humor. She was rather small, standing at about four-and-a-half feet tall. Her face was framed by soft, platinum-blond curls, and obscured behind the visor of her ornate helmet. Her polished, ceremonial armor was as dark as the night sky, boasting of beauty, elegance, and ferocity.

"Ah, my lovely little countess, where's your faith?" the crystalline creature chided, towering over his smaller companion.

Far from being intimidated, the masked girl rested her unwavering glare upon her companion's regal and undeniably beautiful face. "This is ridiculous, Solace."

"It's certainly not my best work," the crystalline creature admitted. "But time is running short, my friend, and our options are few."

"This isn't an option!" the masked girl fumed.

"And yet you agreed to it."

"Like I had a choice!"

"Regardless of your feelings on the matter, we've played our hand. Let us see where the rest of the cards fall."

The masked girl turned and stormed away angrily, but didn't go far. She seated herself upon the flattest of the boulders in their vicinity, then adopted a sulking pose.

"Focus. The fighting has only just begun," Solace continued, disregarding the girl's obvious anger. "We'll cross blades with our enemies again soon. In Yato, I expect."

There was a long, awkward pause.

"At the Museum Melee," the masked girl guessed reluctantly.

"At the edge of the Bottomless Canyon," Solace disagreed.

"Care to bet on that?" the masked girl challenged, and her mood seemed to lighten immediately.

Solace laughed. "Against you? No thanks," he declined.

"Then why…"

"Because you may be right about some things, or everything, or nothing at all. Truthfully, I have no idea which it'll be," Solace admitted. "But we'll find out soon enough."

"Hardly," the masked girl grumbled.

Solace laughed again, though there was a mournful note to his laughter this time. Then his voice grew serious. "We may have to face them soon. Are you prepared for that eventuality?" he asked.

The masked girl nodded. "I am."

"Good," Solace nodded approvingly. "I trust that I need not remind you what lies at stake here, my dear countess…"


End file.
